Light of the World
by Xarhaa
Summary: The sequel to "Man of the World." This is an AU, where Lucy didn't die at the end of AC:B. Book II of Assassin's Creed: Worlds
1. Chapter 1

**Assassin's Creed: Light of the World**

_Disclaimer: Ubisoft owns all characters, trademarks, etc. I am merely borrowing their characters for a little fun, and none of this is written for profit. _

**A/N: ****The sequel to "Man of the World." ****Takes place after the epilogue of MotW.**** If you haven't read that, a lot of this won't make any sense. ****In a nutshell, Desmond doesn't kill Lucy in AC: B. ****  
**

**This story is complete. The third story in the series is "Fate of the World." **

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**9/24/2013**

**16:45**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Desmond sighed as he put down the moving box in their new apartment, stretching. Lucy had gotten a job at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, teaching classes in cognitive neuroscience...now an accepted science due to the advent of the Animus' use in the entertainment industry.

She'd taken a few classes there to finish out her psychiatry degree, and more and more in her classes she heard stories of people who'd wound up committed to mental institutions due to Animus overexposure. He certainly knew what that felt like.

He'd worried about the effects of going back to work so soon after the birth of their son, Kyle, but surprisingly it had been Altair who had advised him to let her do as she wished...and though she was sometimes stressed out by her job, it was clear she loved being back at work, and Desmond had been relieved to see her happy.

Due to his current employment status as the new Mentor of U.S. Assassins, Desmond and his son spent most days together. The other Assassins had not minded Kyle being present, indeed, Desmond's own ancestors – bound to him via his absorption of the knowledge of their Apples of Eden – doted on the boy. Desmond would often leave his office for a walk and find Ezio pacing the training floor, rocking Kyle in his arms and singing softly in Italian.

Kyle was a good-natured baby and seemed especially content when it was Desmond or Ezio holding him. He seemed to prefer Ezio a little more, Desmond mused, probably because he took great pleasure in tugging on the Italian Assassin's beard.

Today his mother and father had offered to watch Kyle overnight, while Desmond and their team moved them into their new apartment. The new apartment was a definite step up from Desmond's own previous living space, their income being supplemented by the fact Desmond was awarded a small stipend of the Assassins' funding for living expenses.

John's voice came from behind him.

"Sir, if you gather any more wool standing there, I'll be able to knit you a sweater with it."

Desmond roused from his musings and realized he was standing in the doorway. John stood behind him with a box in his hands.

"Geez, sorry John." Desmond grinned, moving aside so the other man could set the box down. John smiled at him. "It's okay, I mean, I was only standing there holding that box of books for 10 minutes..."

Desmond groaned good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. "Am I ever gonna hear the end of this?"

John grinned at him now. "I dunno sir, does hearing the end of it involve a beer?"

Desmond looked thoughtful. "A beer does sound pretty good...Luce said she was probably gonna be late tonight anyway...something about grading papers written by students who think Snopes is a quotable source." He chuckled. "I gather she doesn't think highly of some of her students' research skills."

John laughed now, his dark gaze amused. "I'll tell Mike."

He went off down the hall and Desmond looked after him a moment.

Desmond had told John and Michael they were free to pursue their own lives after the events in the Temple, but they had both stubbornly insisted on living near Desmond and his family, and Desmond was fairly sure that one of them shadowed him around the clock.

He'd once asked them point-blank why they insisted on guarding him, and to his surprise, it had been Michael who told him firmly, "We lost a brother, Desmond. We're not losing another. No matter what you order us to do, we'll be around. So you can deal with it, or you can continue to argue about something that won't change."

Desmond had been stunned into silence and could only nod in agreement. He'd never heard Michael - normally reluctant to say more than a sentence at a time speak so passionately about anything – at least, he mused a little sadly, since the Temple.

"Sir, you're doing it again..."

Desmond's thoughts were once more interrupted by John, who grinned at him, Michael standing behind him. Desmond laughed softly. "Okay guys, give me a few and I'll be ready to go." He stepped towards the back of the apartment, moving around the piles of boxes that were, he recalled with some amusement, almost all Lucy's. He himself owned virtually nothing...his old apartment had been rented out to another tenant who'd had no idea what might have become of his meager possessions.

He hit the speed dial on the smart phone Lucy had insisted he get shortly after his father had officially transferred the mantle of Mentor to him. He still hadn't figured out all of its functions, despite his brain being packed with the knowledge of millenia from the Apples.

It rang, and Lucy picked up, her voice sounding a little impatient.

"Lucy Miles."

Desmond purred. "I still love the way you say your name, Mrs. Miles." Lucy laughed on the other end of the line. "Hi Des. Everything moved in?" Desmond looked around. "The boxes are in, and we've setup the bedroom and crib at least. John and Mike want to go out for a beer or two."

"That's fine Des...your parents are watching Ky tonight anyway, right?" Desmond nodded. "Yeah. Mom's been complaining lately about her grandson quotient being low, or something...I don't even think she realized I was standing there when I dropped him off."

Lucy laughed. "Of course not Des, grand kids always trump grown kids in the hierarchy of parenthood. Have fun with the guys Des, you've been stressed out lately."

Desmond sighed. "The Templars will only be running scared for so long, Luce. I'm worried about that other shoe dropping relatively soon." There was a silence on the other end, and then Lucy said, "Try not to think too hard about that, Des. Worrying doesn't do anyone any good."

Desmond sighed. "I know, but tell that to my brain." Lucy laughed. "Okay – Desmond's brain, quit worrying about the Templars and go have a damn beer with your friends!"

They both laughed. "Okay, Mrs. Smartass, I'll see you when I get home."

Desmond hung up and moved back towards the living room, where John and Michael waited. "Good to go, sir?"

Desmond nodded at John. "Yeah." They left the apartment, Desmond closing and locking the door behind them.

They made their way down the street, the sunlight glinting from the myriad of windows in the buildings above them. Desmond led them confidently onto the subway, and the three men were afforded a wide berth by the other passengers of the car.

They got off at a familiar stop, and Desmond looked around as they exited the station. They were close to Washington Park, and it had been this subway entrance he'd been headed for the morning Abstergo's goons had grabbed him. Desmond shivered at the memory, and John looked askance of him.

"Everything alright, sir?"

Desmond nodded. "Yeah. I didn't really think when we got off back there, but this was the way I used to come home from the bar." He pointed to an area of the sidewalk edging the park. "Right there was where Abstergo's goons grabbed me when I was kidnapped last year..." John's sharp eyes noticed something else, and he frowned, striding over to a telephone pole. It was plastered with dozens of pieces of paper, and among them was a faded, yellowed sign.

He tore it off, reading it clinically, then handed it to Desmond.

"This guy looks sort of familiar, wouldn't you say, sir?"

Desmond's golden gaze went to a faded picture of his own face.

_**HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?**_

_**Desmond Miles**_

_**Age 25 – Height: 6' - Weight: 195 lbs – Brown Hair – Brown Eyes**_

_**Last seen Sept 1, 2012 near Washington Square Park, wearing white hoodie and dark jeans.**_

_**If you have any information, contact us at 212 -**_

Desmond frowned. The phone number was badly faded, and he strained to read it. When he had succeeded in reading the numbers, his gaze went wide.

"This is the main line at Bad Weather."

John looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Weather looks okay to me, sir." Desmond shook his head. "No, I used to work at this bar before...before Abstergo." John stared at him, his dark eyes wide. "_You_ were a bartender?"

Desmond nodded, his eyes still on the missing poster.

"Yeah...for 9 years. I ran away from the Farm when I was 16. Eventually I wound up here, and the lady who manages this bar took me in."

Desmond looked down the street. "As a matter of fact, the bar isn't far from here." John and Michael looked at one another. "Well sir, do they have beer?" Desmond nodded, his expression distant.

"Then I'd say it's as good a place as any to have a drink...maybe you can find your friend and let her know you're okay."

Desmond hesitated. Part of him wanted to be able to thank Christine for the help she'd offered him, and part of him was reluctant to have anything to do with his former life. So many things had changed in the last few months...

Altair's voice echoed in his head.

"_Your past is part of what makes you the man you are, Desmond. You have no reason to be ashamed of it or the people who helped you in your time of need."_

His ancestor's statement stung. He wasn't ashamed of his old life, was he? What reason did he have to be? Altair was silent, but Desmond knew he and Ezio were listening, as they always did. John and Michael were watching him, and inwardly he growled.

"_Damn it Altair, why do you always have to be right?"_

There was the mental equivalent of a shrug, and Altair replied, _"Blame it on my very advanced age, perhaps."_ Desmond heard Ezio snort with laughter.

"_Okay you two, you've made your point. Knock it off."_

Desmond could feel both ancestors' amusement as he looked at John and Michael. "Apparently everyone including the two ancestors sharing my head think I should pay Christine a visit. C'mon."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**9/24/2013**

**17:56**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

The bar had not changed. Desmond was surprised despite himself...it felt like much longer than a year since he'd been here last. John stepped in front of him as he made for the door, and Desmond looked at him. "Sir, if you don't mind, I'll go in first and check it out."

Desmond was going to protest, and John noticed it and said, "Sir, Abstergo obviously tracked you here once before. I'd rather be cautious. They're probably still pissed about the fact we blew up their HQ."

Michael grinned, his green eyes alight. "That was a real blast." Desmond groaned. "Mike, we've really gotta talk. I make bad jokes, but that was just painful."

John stepped into the bar ahead of them, looking around. It was a fairly nondescript bar, like many in this part of town, it catered to the working-class and the university students. John saw more than a few pairs of eyes settle on him as he entered the bar fully, seating himself in a corner booth. He waited until the eyes had turned away from him before he signaled Michael, and Desmond and Michael entered together, seating themselves in his booth.

Desmond's back was to the bar, and John could see the tension in his stance. A woman came over from the bar, her dark hair almost defiantly curly and her face bearing signs of once having been very beautiful. Her blue eyes were faded and tired as she made her way over to them.

"What'll you gentleman ha – Des?!"

Desmond sighed. "Hi, Christine."

Christine stared incredulously at Desmond for a full minute, and then her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know whether I want to slap you or hug you, Des. What the fuck happened to you?"

Desmond noticed the less-drunk patrons of the bar looking in their direction at the sound of Christine's raised voice, and his jaw tightened as he heard whispers of, "Is that Des? Holy shit, it is Des! … But I thought he disappeared?"

Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, "Christine, maybe we should talk about this later."

Christine shook her head, her gaze hard. "Not on your life, Des. In the back, now."

John's expression became truculent. "I don't much care for your tone, lady. Show a little more respect." Christine looked at John. "No offense, but this isn't your business." Desmond watched Michael's expression harden as John tensed, and he said, "Easy, guys. Let's not let this get out of hand."

Desmond rose to his feet, making a show of stretching, and John and Michael took his cue and split off as if heading for the men's room.

Christine headed to the bar, talking to the young man behind it. He was thin, his arms covered in numerous tattoos. His muddy brown eyes widened as Christine said something to him, and Desmond saw his gaze flicker to him and then back to Christine.

Desmond headed for the kitchen, absently picking out possible escape routes as John and Michael smoothly met up with him at the back door.

After a few minutes, Christine appeared, her expression irate. Before anyone could stop her, she took two fast steps over to Desmond, and her slaps were hard, in quick succession.

Desmond blinked, and in a split second, John had her pinned against a back wall, his hidden blade at her throat. Christine's expression became terrified, and Desmond growled.

"Stand down."

John returned his growl. "She hit you, sir."

Desmond sighed. "I probably deserved at least one of those. Let her go." John looked rebellious as he obeyed the order, sheathing his blade. He crossed his arms, standing in front of the exit that led out to the bar, and Christine stared at him and then at Desmond.

"What the fuck is going on, Des? Who are these guys?"

Desmond's gaze met John's as he said, "My brothers."

Christine's gaze narrowed.

"You don't have any brothers, Des. Who are they and what the hell happened to you? When you didn't come into work I was sure you'd been killed and dumped in an alley somewhere!"

Desmond sighed. "They aren't my brothers by blood, Christine." His gaze went hard. "But they are my brothers...and they're also a little on the overprotective side, sometimes."

John snorted. "There's no such thing as too much protection for you sir...you're popular in all the wrong circles."

Christine looked at them and then back at Desmond.

"Des, what the hell are they talking about?"

Desmond growled. "I don't have enough time to tell you everything. Suffice it to say, I didn't come into work because I was kidnapped. Eventually I escaped, and here I am. I found one of the posters you put out, and I came here to make sure you were okay."

Christine's gaze narrowed.

"Well, I'm fucking touched Des, but I didn't put out any posters. When you disappeared I did what any rational person would have and called the cops. They didn't believe me."

Desmond went still, and he looked at John, whose gaze was level.

"Likely they put them out so that if you ever came back here, someone would remember having seen you." Desmond sighed. "Fucking wonderful."

Christine broke into their conversation. "'They' who Des? The guys who kidnapped you?" Desmond nodded, his expression distant.

"We need to go, now."

Desmond turned to head down the street. Christine grabbed his arm.

"Wait a minute, Des, you're not going anywhere! You owe me an explanation!"

Desmond wrenched his arm free. "I don't have time Chris, I'm sorry. For what it's worth...thanks for taking care of me."

Christine found herself unable to look away from his golden gaze as it began to glow brighter and brighter...she didn't see that within the bar, all of the patrons' heads were wreathed in the same golden light as Desmond's voice echoed in their minds.

"_Forget you saw us."_

When the light faded, Christine blinked, wondering why she was standing outside the back of the bar in the middle of happy hour and didn't notice the flash of white as Desmond and the other made their way over the rooftops.

**A/N: Two chapters in one night cause that's what I wrote split into. Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**9/24/2013**

**18:40**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Desmond entered their apartment, his nerves on edge. He hadn't wanted to use his power to wipe the memories of Christine and the bar patrons, but he couldn't take any chances that they'd tell someone he'd been there.

John and Michael had split off before he'd reached home to scout the area. Though it'd been a long time since the poster had been put up, none of them put it past the Templars not to have surveillance set up nearby.

He heard humming as he made his way to the bedroom, and his steps went silent as he crept up on the bedroom door, looking inside. Lucy sat on their bed feeding Kyle, absently humming a lullaby. Letting his breath out slowly, Desmond pushed the door open, and Lucy looked up at him, smiling.

"Have fun at the bar, Des?"

Desmond swallowed, shaking his head. "Not really, Luce."

Lucy saw his expression, and her gaze narrowed.

"What happened Des?"

Quietly, Desmond told her what had happened at the bar, even as she finished feeding Kyle and burped him. She was strangely calm as he finished his story, and they sat in silence a moment before she said, "Are you sure Christine and the other patrons won't remember you were there?"

Desmond sighed. "I'm pretty sure." Lucy frowned. "It's not standard practice to put out that kind of surveillance unless they had a reason to be looking for you after Abstergo...likely they posted those signs after we escaped the first time, in case you went back to your old stomping grounds. John did say the posters were old..."

Desmond frowned. "I hope you're right, but I didn't want to take any chances." Lucy sighed. "Des, you know as well as I do if the Templars really wanted to find us, they would have." Desmond growled. "I _hate_ not knowing what they're up to." Lucy shook her head. "That was one reason your Dad always had Assassins stationed within the Templars...there aren't enough now to do that kind of recon, so we'll have to figure out a way to get the information without someone inside."

Desmond looked thoughtful.

"What if we could get someone inside?"

Lucy stared at him. "What do you mean Des? All of us are known to them, there isn't anyone anonymous enough...I mean, at this point, whoever it is would have to be a real nobody to be an effective mole."

Desmond nodded. "I know someone who might fit the bill." He frowned helplessly at his smart phone. "How the f-..." he glanced at Kyle's wide golden gaze and amended his sentence, "- heck do I dial long distance on this thing?"

* * *

Laetitia England sat back from her monitor with a thoughtful look on her face.

Once again they'd arrived at an Eden site to find Assassins had already been there and left with the Piece. It was a frustrating new pattern for the Assassins...previously they'd shown little to no interest in the Pieces of Eden beyond preventing the Order from obtaining them, but now they were after them with what was obviously a heavy focus.

She frowned. Every site the Assassins had beaten them to they'd taken great care to level, typically with heavy explosives – also an unusual tack for them.

They'd still had no luck in locating the team that had gone missing outside of New York, and Latitia suspected she probably wasn't far off the mark in assuming both Vidic and Cross were dead.

On her monitor was a still image of their current Mentor, known in their records as Subject 17. From what they'd been able to piece together of the Turin Event, as they'd dubbed it, he was either deeply involved or directly responsible for it. She'd spent the past two days reviewing all the data from his last set of Animus sessions, as well as the video of him 'activating' the Apple of Eden in Vidic's lab.

Vidic had kept terrible records, but from what she'd managed to read of his notes, this Desmond Miles was a force to be reckoned with, somehow having absorbed the knowledge and abilities of the Apple of Eden. They hadn't managed to have anyone infiltrate the Assassins since Cross...and the few Assassins they'd captured since the event had adamantly refused to give them any useful information about Miles.

The only recurring pattern she noticed in the interrogation tapes was the almost fanatical zeal with which the Assassins defended their young Mentor, in some cases, even to death.

It was unusual, this turnaround in the Assassins' views. The Templars had known that William Miles, Desmond's father, hadn't been the most popular Mentor. They'd managed to use the fact he was so disliked amongst the Assassins to gain a valuable ally in their quest to restore order to the world – one Lucy Stillman, who had proved to be one of the finest moles they'd ever trained, until her defection back to the Assassins. Latitia frowned as she reviewed the woman's file.

Lucy's report record was unblemished, but something had changed after the assignment to bring the Apple of Eden hidden in a vault beneath Rome. She had no idea what it was, but Vidic's report had indicated she'd apparently become romantically involved with Subject 17 at some point. She slid a piece of paper from behind the final report, and her eyes widened as she read the results of the pregnancy test Vidic had forcibly taken from her.

So...Stillman had been carrying the Assassin's child. Her expression became contemplative as she turned her gaze back to the image of Desmond. He was certainly handsome, she supposed, and his unusual golden eyes were quite striking. If he'd fathered a child with Ms. Stillman, it was entirely possible the child had inherited some of his Precursor abilities. She didn't see any other paperwork that indicated if the pregnancy had been viable past the first test.

She picked up her phone and dialed an extension, waiting impatiently while it rang. When the person on the other end picked up, she said, "Sorry to wake you, Juhani. Would you mind taking the next flight to New York? I have a target I want you to put eyes on."

Juhani growled something she was fairly sure was unflattering in Finnish before he hung up. Laetitia knew he would be in her office the next day, and then they would learn more about this Desmond Miles and why he was after the Pieces of Eden.

* * *

The insistent ring of his cell phone woke him from his sleep, and blearily he grabbed for it on the nightstand, wondering who would be calling him at this hour. Grumbling, he flipped it open. The number was unlisted, and he debated a scant moment before picking it up.

"This is Lucas..." he didn't quite manage to stifle his yawn.

A vaguely familiar voice spoke from the other end of the line.

"Sorry if I woke you up, Lucas. This is Desmond Miles." Lucas frowned. Miles? The name sounded familiar, and after a moment, his eyes went wide in terror.

"M...Mr. Miles?" he stammered, and Desmond's voice was calming as he spoke next.

"Just Desmond is fine." Lucas swallowed, then said, "Uh...how...how's Ms. Stillman?" There was a slight pause, and then Desmond said, "She's...just fine." Lucas looked around, then whispered, "How the hell did you get my number?"

Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, "You remember when I touched you on the head that night you helped us?"

Lucas hadn't until that very moment, and he shuddered at the memory. "That was weird, Desmond...what'd you do?"

Desmond sighed.

"I read your mind, Lucas. I know your phone number because you know your phone number."

Lucas's gaze narrowed, and he sat up in bed.

"You read my mind? Was that what that weird...freaky...light thing was?"

He heard Desmond sigh again. "Yeah...basically. I have a favor to ask you." Lucas frowned. "A favor? I already did you a favor, and it almost cost me my job. When your crazy friends blew up the building, I was under investigation for weeks until I was cleared."

Desmond went silent a moment, then said, "You said you hadn't signed up to that job to kill people. My favor involves potentially saving a lot of lives."

Lucas snorted.

"You mean to tell me that you Assassins kill people to save people? Isn't that kind of contradictory?"

Desmond's voice was soft as he said, "It is contradictory. But sometimes killing is necessary. Just because it is doesn't mean we enjoy it – quite the opposite, in fact."

Lucas sighed. "What's the favor?"

"I need information, and you're the only one in a position to help me get it." Lucas listened as he explained, and his eyes went wide.

* * *

Desmond hung up the phone, idly flipping it once in his hand before he pocketed it. Lucy looked at him seriously, absently rocking Kyle in one arm.

"That was a hell of a gamble, Des, and I'm still not sure he went for it. How do we know he won't run screaming to Rikken?"

Desmond shook his head.

"We don't, but if what I read in his mind is any indication, he's not overly fond of the Templars' overall mission, not after he saw how far Vidic was willing to go." Lucy sighed.

"It's probably not the best idea to let your father know about this, Des. He definitely wouldn't approve of working with the Templars, even if it's with someone who's helped us in the past."

Desmond's jaw tightened.

"I'll deal with my Dad. We've got to know how much or how little they know about what happened at the Temple. They're still after the Pieces of Eden...we've been lucky so far in beating them to the last couple, but our good luck won't last forever." Lucy frowned.

"Why are we collecting them, Des? I mean, they don't do us much good now, do they? The world is saved..."

Desmond shook his head, his gaze serious. "Minerva told me that the world is cyclical, Luce. That means that the flare...or some other natural disaster – will happen again. When it does, the world needs to be ready for it. What we did in the Temple at Turin was temporary. The world needs a better defense than a jury-rigged, thousand-year old machine. We got very lucky, and I won't let the fate of the world rest on luck if I can help it."

Lucy sighed. "That's a lot of responsibility to take on Des, the fate of the world. Why does it have to be you?"

Desmond sighed, looking down at Kyle, and his hand gently stroked his son's dark, downy hair. "Who else has the power Luce? Other than Kyle, and maybe a few other descendants of Adam and Eve, our family is it...Juno's breeding program saw to that."

Lucy sighed, leaning into his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her.. "It just seems like so much...it'd be nice to just be a normal family, Des." Desmond nodded, his gaze still on Kyle. "I know Luce...but there's no sense in wishing for something that isn't ever going to be true. Our family has always been special, and I have a feeling it always will be." They stared down at their son in silence, who yawned and went to sleep, content.

**A/N: Only one chapter tonight, but it's longer than normal, and I'm starting to hammer out the general plot line. More to come! Edit: Apparently I can't read and Juhani is Finnish. I've fixed it. Edit part duex: Wolfinson, I've fixed the repetitive bit. Thanks for the catch.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**9/27/2013**

**0400**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Juhani sipped a cold cup of coffee as he watched his target sleep beside his wife on the monitor.

He'd been unable to trail the young Mentor too closely – Desmond's two bodyguards were both well trained and at least one of them shadowed him at all times while the other stayed beside him. He'd managed to plant two cameras in their apartment, and it was that video feed he watched, stifling a yawn.

The past two days, he'd observed Desmond, his bodyguards and the baby move between what he presumed were the Assassin's offices – located in a nondescript office building – and his own apartment which he was in the process of unpacking. His wife generally arrived home around dinnertime, and they'd usually spend the rest of the night relaxing in each others' company.

Juhani frowned. He wondered why England had insisted he keep such a close watch on Desmond and his family...they seemed like any other family, really. He hadn't been given many details about them, other than Desmond was the current leader of the Assassins with some Precursor-related abilities.

England had told him she was very curious to know if Desmond's son also had the same potential.

The sound of crying over the mic brought his attention back to the apartment. He saw Desmond rouse, padding over to the crib and picking up his son, rocking him gently as he crept out of the bedroom on silent feet. Juhani watched as Desmond deftly changed his son and warmed a bottle for him. The young father seated himself on the couch, his son cradled in one arm, and the baby's cries ceased as he eagerly drank his breakfast.

He saw Desmond yawn, and unconsciously, he did the same, cursing himself.

Juhani turned away from the monitors, preparing to take a cat nap, when he heard another voice speak in the apartment. The voice was clearly a man's, speaking Arabic. The Finnish Templar turned back to the monitor.

His eyes widened as he looked at the monitor. In the middle of Desmond's living room stood an old man, clad in traditional Assassin robes. It was he who was speaking, and Juhani muttered an angry curse. He didn't speak Arabic, so he had no idea what they were saying as Desmond responded in the same tongue.

He hadn't heard the strange old man enter the apartment, and he frowned. It was as if he'd appeared from nowhere, and Juhani watched as the baby finished the bottle. Desmond burped the baby gently, and the old man smiled as he took the child, murmuring what was obviously an endearment. The baby in his arms cooed and gurgled, his golden eyes alight, and it was then that he noticed the old man's eyes were the exact same shade.

Desmond stepped out of the room, and through the mic Juhani heard the shower start. The old man was pacing the living room now, rocking the baby in his arms and murmuring softly in Arabic.

Juhani frowned, flipping through the file he'd been given on Desmond, locating a digitized image taken from the Animus of one of Desmond's ancestors, one Altair Ibn La'Ahad. He placed the image from the Animus beside the video feed of the strange old man, and his eyes widened.

Though Altair appeared to be at least in his eighties now, the images were an exact match. He sat back, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. Altair couldn't be standing in the living room of Desmond's apartment in 2013 rocking what must be his great – with several dozen greats' tacked on for good measure – grandson.

Juhani's attention was temporarily drawn from the spectacle his brain told him couldn't be happening as he heard quiet laughter from inside the shower. His glance went to the bed, which was now empty, and he noticed Lucy's form beside Desmond's in the steamed glass of the shower door. Juhani deliberately muted the mic from the bedroom camera and resolutely focused his eyes on the living room once more.

Altair now looked out the window, the baby in his arms. Absently, he still rocked the boy, his golden eyes on the pre-dawn light that was now making its way into the sky. When the sun was fully up, Desmond and Lucy emerged from the bedroom, Lucy obviously dressed for work.

Desmond was wearing his usual jeans and hoodie – Juhani wondered for a minute if he even owned any other clothing – and as he watched, Desmond bowed his head to Altair, murmuring what was obvious a thanks. The ancient Assassin said something in Arabic, his tone teasing, and Juhani watched Desmond and Lucy both blush before he handed back the sleeping baby. Juhani kept his eyes glued to the video feed, and as he watched, Altair disappeared as if he'd never been.

Juhani blinked and stared, but neither Desmond nor Lucy seemed disturbed by the fact Altair's ghost had apparently babysat their son for half an hour and then disappeared. It was clear to Juhani this was a regular occurrence.

He watched as Desmond packed a bag for the baby, kissing Lucy as she rushed out the door. As Desmond met his bodyguards at their usual time, and began to make for the subway, Juhani picked up his cell phone, punching in a number.

It was clear there was more going on here than he'd been told, and he wasn't about to antagonize the Mentor of the Assassins, his bodyguards and who knows how many not-quite-dead Master Assassin ancestors Desmond had in his bloodline.

England's voice was tired as she answered the phone. "Juhani, do you have any idea what TIME it is?"

Juhani growled.

"Yes. When did it occur to you to tell me about the fact Miles somehow has a guy who's been dead 800 years walking around his apartment?"

There was a stunned silence, and then England snarled, "What?!"

* * *

Desmond sat at his desk, drumming his fingers on the desk as he read through the latest e-mail from the team in London. It was clear from their reports that the Templars were starting to take notice of the fact the Assassins had been after the Pieces of Eden, mounting offensives to stop them and posting the usual anti-Assassin rhetoric, calling them terrorists and a cult. Desmond sighed, leaning back in his chair.

The team had gotten the Piece and gotten out, but it was a close scrape. There had been more and more of those lately, and Desmond knew it was only a matter of time before someone died.

He wasn't prepared to deal with that again just yet. He typed a quick response, sending the team underground to wait out the media frenzy for a few weeks.

Lucas had been good to his word, sending corresponding reports from within Abstergo that contained site information for the Pieces he'd been able to glean information about.

There was a knock on his open door, and Desmond looked up to see his father standing there, his face like a thundercloud.

Desmond had years of practice reading his father's most minute expressions, and said calmly, "Who told you?"

William's voice was choked with anger.

"You're working with a Templar?" Desmond noticed the veins in his father's forehead standing out.

"I wouldn't say working with. More like, he's providing us information." Desmond shrugged.

William snarled.

"Desmond, when I turned over the mantle to you, I expected you to take care of the Assassins...instead you're sending them to sites to hunt for Pieces of Eden based on the word of a Templar!"

Desmond frowned. "Are you done? I've got work to finish."

William slammed his hand down on Desmond's desk. "How can you be so nonchalant about all this?" he demanded, and Desmond eyed him, his gaze going hard.

"In case you haven't noticed Dad, I'm not. I'm far fucking from it. We've got to get the last few Pieces we need, and unfortunately we need parts from several different kinds to build the defense grid – the permanent one."

William stared at Desmond, his gray eyes narrow.

"Cut off the Templar, Desmond. We don't need to be working with their kind."

Desmond shook his head.

"What would you have me do then, Dad? We have to have information. The Templars records of the Pieces locations are a lot more complete than our own, despite the map being in my head...the Templars have access to building plans and security codes. The map doesn't do us much good if we don't know what we're getting into!"

William threw up his hands. "Send someone to infiltrate the Templars!"

Desmond stood up, his gaze angry now, and he heard the training area outside the office go quiet. "Send someone to infiltrate...you mean like Clay, or Lucy?"

Desmond's golden gaze narrowed, and he hissed, "You abandoned both of them to the Templars, and when Clay realized he'd never escape, he killed himself...when Lucy realized she couldn't escape, she almost did the same goddamn thing!"

William looked as if Desmond had punched him, his eyes wide.

"That...that wasn't what I meant..."

Desmond snarled.

"That's a fucking lie, and you know it. It's exactly what you meant, because you believe in sacrificing for the greater good, and who the hell cares if the one sacrificed is your own blood?"

William stood back, staring at Desmond, his face twisting with rage. "You think I left you there? You think I didn't send anyone after you? When you got captured by Abstergo the first time, I sent our best teams! They died trying to save you!"

Desmond growled.

"They died, Dad. But _you_ didn't do a goddamned thing. I didn't see you risking your ass. The only reason I'm not out there doing those missions myself is because everyone around me has decided I'm too important to risk. I never said I agreed with them, but Ezio and Altair can be very effective bullies since they reside in my head, and all."

The silence was profound as Desmond rose to his full height.

"Get out of my office Dad. When you've pulled your head out of your ass, we'll talk, but right now I'm too pissed off to even look at you."

William stared at Desmond a moment longer, then turned and left.

Desmond sat down after his father left, his head in his hands. Ezio's familiar scent wafted over him as the Italian Assassin appeared, seating himself on the edge of Desmond's desk.

"It is a difficult thing to have one's beliefs challenged, Desmond. Have patience with your father. He has good reasons to hate the Templars."

Desmond looked up at Ezio.

"I know Ezio...but if we're going to survive..if we're all going to survive, that cycle has to stop sometime." Ezio nodded. "I agree, Desmond. But old prejudices are hard to break...on both sides."

Desmond sighed.

"I don't want to work with them, but we don't have enough Assassins left. If we don't work with them for the time being, we're blind and deaf. My father never bothered to establish any kind of a reputable front for us...we've always been underground...we work in the darkness to serve the light."

Desmond frowned.

"I think someday soon, we'll have to learn to work in the light if we want to survive."

**A/N: The plot thickens, and the balance of power becomes apparent. Fixed Juhani's nationality, cuz I apparently can't read...thanks for the catch Verpy!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**9/30/2013**

**1930**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Juhani slipped quietly into the booth at the back of the bar. After he'd gone back to England with the video he'd taken of Desmond and his family, they'd both spent the past several days going over every scrap of information the Templar Order had about Desmond Miles and his ancestors.

Their search hadn't told them much more than they already knew, and nothing so far explained the appearance of Desmond's long-dead ancestors. Latitia could only posit that Altair's appearance had something to do with his Apple of Eden – which Desmond and a team of Assassins had stolen out from under the very nose of Daniel Cross in Masyaf, Syria. Juhani had read over Desmond's file from his first imprisonment at Abstergo, and the team's report indicated they'd picked him up near Washington Park.

There was a side note in the file about a bar that Desmond had apparently been employed at for a number of years, and so Juhani now sat in a booth near the door of Bad Weather, watching the blonde bartender shamelessly watering down drinks.

He waited patiently as the owner of the bar made her way over to his table. Her name according to the file was Christine Waterton. She eyed him.

"You the one who complained your drinks were watered down?"

Juhani nodded. "Yeah. I gotta say your bartender sucks, lady. That was the whitest Russian I've ever had, barely any alcohol in it. Can you convince your guy there make me something that doesn't suck?"

Christine glared at him.

"There are other places to have a drink. If you dislike the drinks here so much, don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Juhani frowned.

"I came here cause my friend assured me the drinks were good. He told me you guys had one called a... 'Shirley Templar' …?"

Juhani knew he'd struck a nerve as her gaze narrowed with anger.

"Sorry, we don't serve that drink anymore. The bartender who used to make it is...gone."

Juhani feigned interest, leaning forward.

"Gone, eh? Dead?"

Christine visibly flinched, then snarled angrily. "He disappeared about a year ago. Just never came into work one day, and when I called his super at his apartment, the guy said he hadn't seen him in days...I never did find out what happened to him."

Juhani shook his head, pretending to be upset.

"Ah geez. Look, I'm sorry. It's clear you cared about him, whoever he was..."

Christine growled.

"His name was Desmond. He wasn't just some random guy...there was something special about him."

Juhani's voice was quiet and falsely sympathetic as he said, "Well...I'm always one for a good story...and he sounds like an interesting fellow. What was he like?"

Christine sighed heavily.

Her gaze went to the bar, but Juhani could tell she was reminiscing, and he quietly clicked the record button on the cell in his pocket as she began to speak.

"Des was a strange guy – when I met him he was about 16..." She laughed. "He was being chased by some gang-banger, and I'd left the kitchen door unlocked like an idiot. Next thing I know this skinny kid is staring at me, bleeding all over himself – but what I remember the most is that his eyes were the oddest color...sort of gold, I guess."

Christine shook her head. "I helped him out...the guy chasing him was clearly looking to kill him, and I thought it'd be a shame if such a cute kid wound up dead in the river."

Juhani nodded, his interest real now.

"Did you find out who was chasing him?" Christine shook her head. "He didn't seem to know..the guy had cut him pretty bad on the mouth, but he healed really fast. I gave him a job here cleaning the place..." she laughed. "Mostly cause I didn't want to have to do it myself."

Christine sighed, sitting down on the edge of his booth seat.

"Des worked for me for a couple years, and then I taught him how to mix drinks...he was one of the best bartenders I ever had, and in all his time here he never managed to break a glass...he had some insane reflexes." She smiled a little.

"I guess you might say he grew up here. He told me he'd run away from his parents, who were heads of one of those conspiracy cults...he'd apparently been raised in some kind of isolated compound." She shook her head.

"Des was really innocent...didn't know anything about anything really. I taught him how to do pretty much everything, from mixing drinks to balancing a checkbook. He'd never done any of that, didn't even know what a paycheck was, or how to use credit. Where ever it was he came from must've been real stone-age, or something."

She shook her head as her gaze settled on Juhani.

Juhani ventured another question.

"Did...Desmond ever exhibit any talents?" Christine looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Talents?" She smiled. "Des had lots of … talents. Once he learned how to do something, he got good at whatever it was amazingly fast."

Juhani frowned a little. "I meant...did he ever...I dunno, seem to know things he shouldn't?"

Christine frowned.

"Now that you mention it, Des always seemed to know when someone was lying to him. And he also always knew who was spoiling for a fight...he'd point people out to me and tell me to get them to leave, and invariably there'd be a fight as soon as they left the bar."

Juhani nodded. The abilities she described sounded like the Precursor abilities they'd seen his ancestors use in the Animus. Desmond's ancestors were capable of taking almost-inhuman punishment in fights, and they had a "sixth sense" that gave them information about their targets. It sounded as if Desmond had inherited those abilities.

He clicked the record button off as he tipped his empty glass. "Do you know how to make a Shirley Templar?" Christine blinked, then nodded. "Des invented it, but he taught me how to make it."

Juhani smiled at her.

"Well...I think after hearing his story we ought to toast his...memory."

Christine returned with the drinks as Juhani finished sending the recording to England. Taking the drink with a joviality he didn't feel, he proclaimed loudly, "To Desmond, where ever he may be!"

Christine's glass clinked his, and her voice was a little sad as she said, "To Des...where ever he is."

* * *

William sighed as he watched Rebecca working on Baby. She spent most of her time in the basement of the hideout, perfecting the Animus. They'd used it to great effect to train new recruits, and each new recruit had required the Animus be modified for that user. Rebecca was kept busier these days, since she had to modify Baby for many more users than just Desmond.

"Bill, what're you doing down here? Come to visit us mole-folk?"

Shaun's voice intruded on his thoughts. William sighed. "Desmond confirmed he's working with a Templar." Shaun watched William's expression twist in anger and took a prudent step back as he said, "I take from your expression it didn't go well?"

William snorted.

"That's an understatement. Desmond doesn't see that the Templars are dangerous...after all these years and everything that's happened, that boy is still an optimist." He shook his head.

"Unfortunately what he saw in the Animus as Connor only served to reinforce that misguided belief. I'm starting to wonder if I didn't make a huge mistake in passing power to him."

Rebecca's voice joined in as she wiped grease from her hands.

"It would have passed to Des anyway Bill."

William looked at her, his expression suddenly enraged, and Shaun swallowed as he stepped closer to her. Rebecca eyed William seriously as she said, "If what I just said surprises you Bill, you need to wake up. After what happened in the Temple, what did you expect? Desmond did kind of save the world."

William shook his head. "You don't understand, Rebecca."

Rebecca frowned.

"I don't say much, but I have ears Bill, and I know how to use em."

William frowned. "Do tell."

Rebecca sighed. "Bill, I know you've been Mentor for a long time, but a lot of the Assassin teams didn't like you. And a lot of that came out once Desmond starting giving orders."

William scowled. "You're not telling me anything I don't know, Rebecca. Get to the point."

Rebecca frowned. "That's what I'm talking about right there, Bill. If I'd said that to Des, he'd have given consideration to my opinion."

William resisted the urge to grind his teeth together. "We don't have time for consideration, Rebecca. I don't have time to hold everyone's hand! I need people who can do their goddamn jobs!"

Rebecca shook her head as she looked at him.

"Bill, you don't get it. That's the difference between you and Des...and that's why the Assassins follow him." Rebecca sighed. "I've gotta get these mods put in before the next batch of recruits shows up. I...hope you'll think a little about what I said, Bill."

William stared after her as she went back to the Animus, his thoughts far away.

**A/N: There will be action coming up...I'm moving all the pieces into place first. :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**10/1/2013**

**13:02 (local time)**

**Rome, Italy**

England took a deep breath as she moved towards the imposing double doors of Alan Rikken's office. They'd spent a solid week with little sleep completing the reconnaissance on the new Assassin Mentor, and Rikken had demanded an update.

She pushed open the doors and Alan looked up from his desk. He was an imposing man, with dark hair and pale green eyes. Unlike most Templars, he wore his insignia openly, and he gestured to a chair as she entered. "Ah, Laetitia, come in. Have a seat."

Laetitia seated herself, nervously shuffling the thick file in her hand labeled, "Subject 17."

Alan sat back, crossing his hands on his desk. "Don't look so nervous, Laetitia. I don't bite."

England sighed. "You might when you hear what we've got to report, Alan."

Alan frowned. "Tell me."

England cleared her throat. "Some of this will be review for you, but bear with me..." She opened the file.

"On September 1st, 2012, we acquired Subject 17 for Vidic's Animus project. His name was Desmond Miles, a bartender from New York. Over the course of a week, he found us an Apple of Eden and the map contained within it as his ancestor, Altair Ibn La'Ahad. Shortly thereafter he escaped due to a staged coup with Ms. Lucy Stillman. She left behind the tapes from his Animus sessions as another ancestor, Ezio Auditore da Firenze. We instructed Ms. Stillman to locate another Apple for use in the Abstergo-Eye satellite, and one was located in a Precursor vault located beneath Rome."

England took a breath, and Alan silently offered her a glass of water.

She took it gratefully, taking a sip before she continued.

"Vidic had instructed Ms. Stillman to return with the Apple, and she uncharacteristically resisted the order. Vidic had apparently had some suspicions about her allegiance due to several e-mails she'd sent him, and so he sent the team in early without notifying her. The team captured the Assassin base in Florence, though several Assassins escaped with their Animus, which contained the records of 17's latest sessions as Auditore."

Alan nodded. "I heard about that. Vidic was unbearable for days afterward. I think he was actually pleased to have Subject 17 back in his possession."

England nodded. "Subject 17 utilized the Apple of Eden under duress from Vidic, and somehow absorbed it's knowledge...and from what we can tell, some of its abilities."

Alan frowned. "Absorbed its abilities? How?" England shook her head. "We're still not entirely sure...when we initially captured 17, we were only aware of his ancestry...as it turned out, he carries a great deal of Precursor DNA himself. That DNA gives him extra-human abilities...and also apparently the ability to utilize the Pieces of Eden to their fullest extent."

Alan looked thoughtful, motioning her to continue with his hand. England took another drink and continued reading.

"It was while 17 was in our custody that Ms. Stillman's true allegiance was revealed...she had at some point become romantically involved with 17 and was carrying his descendant, though neither she nor 17 were aware of that fact at the time. Vidic suspected and had a blood test run on Ms. Stillman, and his suspicions proved to be correct."

To Laetitia's surprise, Alan laughed.

"How very cliché...falling in love with the leader of your enemies. Go on, Laetitia."

England nodded, flipping through the file.

"Subject 17 and Ms. Stillman escaped with the unwitting aid of an Animus tech, one Lucas Morrison." She frowned. "Mr. Morrison claimed to remember nothing of the incident, and we have video evidence indication that 17 apparently used the powers he'd absorbed from the Apple of Eden to induce Morrison to release them so a team of Assassins could escort them from the building."

England sat back.

"The rest of the file details Daniel Cross' failure in Syria before it cuts off. We have no further information after Vidic and Cross were apparently following the Assassins to a heretofore unknown Precursor Temple...after that, all communications cease. We can only presume they are both deceased. After the Turin Event, the Assassins dropped off the map for several months."

Alan shook his head. "A terrible shame...of all of us, Warren was dedicated to the cause, and Cross was like a son to him. What have you found with your most recent observations?"

Laetitia pulled another file from within Desmond's.

"I asked Juhani to put eyes on 17. Apparently, he and Ms. Stillman were married last year, and their son was born on July 25th, 2013. His listed name is Kyle William Miles. Ms. Stillman – excuse me, Mrs. Miles now works as a teaching assistant at Einstein in New York. 17 has taken over the mantle of Mentor from his father, and he's been driving the Assassins to acquire certain Pieces of Eden."

Alan frowned. "Certain Pieces? What does he want them for?"

Latitia shook her head. "We have no idea, Alan. It's definitely a departure from our previous engagements with the Assassins...when William Miles was Mentor, they were primarily concerned with attempting to stop us getting the Pieces, but they had never seemed to care about them until now. My guess is 17 is gathering them for some purpose – much as we gathered them for the Abstergo-Eye. What he might want to do with them is beyond me."

Alan looked thoughtful. "You said 17 has Precursor abilities...does his son also exhibit those same abilities?" England sighed. "We can only presume he must carry some of the Precursor genes, though whether or not he is capable of as much as his father won't be known for several years, at the very least."

Alan nodded. "I seem to remember an instance in prior Animus studies where a fetus within a subject was capable of reliving the memories of his father, and that it interfered with the use of the Animus on the mother?"

England nodded. "It was an unexpected complication we hadn't anticipated. We had previously thought the fetus' mind to be too unformed for it to interfere with the Animus, but apparently babies minds are almost fully developed when it comes to memory – even before they're born."

Alan sat back. "I think we've just figured out how we're going to find out what 17 is after." Latitia stared at Alan, closing the file. "How?"

Alan turned away from her to stare out the window.

"Please send Juhani to acquire Subject 18, Kyle William Miles."

England cleared her throat, and Alan turned back to face her. "Is there a problem, Latitia?"

England nodded. "There's one other ability that 17 has demonstrated that might make retrieval of the new subject difficult..."

* * *

Desmond lay on the bed he shared with Lucy, dozing. Lucy had left for work already, and Kyle slept in his crib. Desmond had foregone going to the hideout today. He'd given all the teams several weeks off, and Rebecca said the newest batch of recruits would be ready about the same time. John and Michael watched TV in his living room. After his argument with his father, they'd practically lived at his apartment.

The Assassins could ill-afford a schism between the new leader and the old one. Desmond sighed.

He hadn't meant to be so harsh with his father, but his father's immediate response had irritated him.

Kyle began to fuss in his crib, and Desmond got up, padding over to the crib. Kyle's wide golden gaze was filled with tears, and Desmond picked up his son, rocking him gently. His voice soft, he said, "Whatsa matter, little man? Bad dreams?"

Kyle whimpered, and Desmond hushed him, taking him over to the changing table and quickly changing his diaper. Kyle was strangely quiet as Desmond picked him up once more, and one tiny hand worked its way free of his blankets to pat his father on the cheek.

At his son's touch, images filled Desmond's mind, and he looked down at the baby in his arms in shock.

The images were blurred and unformed, but he saw his own face and Lucy's in them, and he smiled down at his son.

"Well, aren't we the overachiever?" Desmond leaned closer to his son, and Kyle's hand latched onto his father's nose. The images faded as the baby smiled. Desmond pretended to growl and shake, laughing, and to his surprise, Kyle imitated his laugh.

Desmond walked out into the living room, his gaze still on Kyle as he said, "Hey guys, Kyle just did the cutest thing..."

He looked up, and instead of seeing John and Michael watching TV, he saw their slumped forms on the living room floor. The feathered darts protruding from each man's neck told him what had happened.

Instinctively, Desmond rolled as another dart flew in the window, cradling his son close.

Ezio and Altair appeared as he flattened himself against a wall, avoiding the windows. Ezio's sharp eyes scanned the adjoining rooftop, and he hissed, "Your attacker is already on his way here, Desmond. You must take _tesoro_ Kyle and go! We will cover your escape."

Desmond nodded.

Ezio and Altair covered him as he made for the hallway, pushing past his neighbors as he leapt down the stairs. He heard Ezio and Altair follow him, and he burst out onto the street. Kyle cried in his arms, and Desmond instinctively rolled again as a silenced gunshot grazed his arm.

The people on the street scattered, screaming, and Desmond ignored the pain in his arm as he took off for the subway. People stared as Desmond and the two ancestral Assassins leapt the turn-styles gracefully, diving into a train as the door closed.

Kyle cried in Desmond's arms as the rest of the car turned to stare at him, and Altair and Ezio took up defensive stances. Desmond rocked his son. "Shh, shh...it's okay little man, we got away from them...shh..."

"Not quite, Mr. Miles."

Desmond's gaze narrowed as the whole car stood up, the glint of a gun visible in every hand.

A tall blonde man with ice-blue eyes stepped out from behind them.

Desmond swallowed, and the two ancestral Assassins crouched, ready to attack.

"Now, now, Mr. Miles. You don't want to risk a fight in such close quarters...its entirely possible a stray shot might hit that adorable little one in your arms." The blonde man gestured to Desmond.

"Hand me the baby, Mr. Miles, and we can all go away from this in one piece."

Desmond snarled. "Fuck you."

Juhani shook his head. "Such language in front of innocent ears, Mr. Miles." His pocket buzzed, and he frowned. "Ah, excuse me a minute. I'm afraid I'll have to be rude."

He pulled a cell out of his pocket, answering it.

"Yes, I'm staring at him and his ancestors now. The operation didn't quite go as planned...I didn't have time to separate them beforehand..."

He listened a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, sir."

He hung up, shoving the cell phone into his pocket.

"Well, it looks like we're all going to be taking a little trip, Mr. Miles. Make any aggressive moves and we'll kill you."

**A/N:** /**handwave These are not the author's notes you're looking for...move along, move along.../handwave**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**10/7/2013**

**1305**

**Bronx, New York, USA**

Lucy walked back into the lobby from lunch. She was late for her next lecture, and to her surprise, John and Michael turned to face her.

She didn't need to ask as they motioned her outside.

"What happened?" she demanded, and it was then she noticed the puncture wound in John's neck.

"They got Mentor Miles and Ky, ma'am. They must have been monitoring us...the apartment was a mess, so it looks like Mentor Miles and the ancestors put up a fight." Michael spoke up next. "The neighbors reported Mentor Miles and two strangely-dressed men fled the building with a baby."

Lucy's expression tightened.

"Did they see which way he went?"

John and Michael shook their heads. "All we have to go on is what we were able to get out of witnesses, ma'am...and not many of them were willing to talk to us...some people thought Mentor Miles was kidnapping his son."

Lucy snarled. "Call William and the others. I'll be right back."

Lucy walked into her office, looking at her boss.

"I've experienced a family emergency. Deb will need to cover my lectures for awhile."

Her boss stared at her. "What kind of emergency?"

Lucy's teeth ground together. "My husband and son have been kidnapped."

* * *

Desmond regained consciousness slowly. His hands were bound tightly behind his back, and he lay on his side on a cold floor. As he attempted to move, he realized his feet were also bound, and dimly he heard the sound of crying.

His eyes opened fully, and he found himself lying on the floor of a glass cell, staring out into a darkened laboratory at an Animus.

To his horror, his son lay on the Animus, his face red from screaming as the techs above him adjusted the UI over him.

"No!" His scream echoed in the tiny cell, and he saw several figures in white lab coats turn to stare at him curiously.

"Kyle!" he cried. He writhed, managing to sit up. The white-coated techs turned away from him, and he saw one of them shake their head at the screaming baby, and Desmond's gaze narrowed as he focused on the techs, and as it had once before in Vidic's lab, his hearing was amplified.

"It's no good, Doctor. He won't stay synced. He needs to be calm...right now his mind is resisting. If we push any more we'll risk damaging him."

Desmond snarled, and between one breath and the next, Ezio and Altair appeared, their blades cleaving into the backs of the lab techs, who stiffened.

An alarm blared, and Desmond saw the blonde Templar who'd captured them enter the room, his face red with rage as he saw Desmond awake.

"You idiots, I told you to keep him knocked out!"

Desmond saw Ezio and Altair fighting the Abstergo guards, who streamed endlessly into the room to the sound of Kyle's screams.

The air began to go hazy in Desmond's cell, and he held his breath for as long as he was able until he was forced to breathe in the gas.

A few minutes later, Desmond lay unconscious once more, and Altair and Ezio looked at one another as they disappeared.

* * *

Rikken watched impassively on the camera as the bodies were dragged out of the lab. England frowned.

"What a mess. Subject 17 may prove to be more trouble than he's worth, at this rate."

Rikken frowned. "Maybe so. Take 17 to an interview room. I think it's time he answered some questions for us...at least until we figure out a way to get his son synced to the Animus."

England nodded, pressing a button, and her voice echoed in the lab below.

"Juhani, take Subject 17 to an interview room."

They watched as Desmond was dragged from his cell and strapped to a stretcher.

Rikken put a hand on England's shoulder. "Keep trying with 18. I'm going to go have a word with his father."

* * *

Lucy waited impatiently as William and the other Assassins gathered in the tiny conference room. William eyed her, and she took a deep breath.

"First off, I want to say this is no one's fault. We knew eventually the Templars would make a move – Desmond warned me about it – though we hadn't anticipated them going after Kyle..." William sighed. "I warned Desmond the Templars were dangerous...I warned him and now who knows what they're doing to him or my grandson!"

There was a low, animal snarl, and to everyone's surprise it came from Lucy.

"Shut up, William. This is absolutely _not_ the time." William stared at her as she continued.

"Desmond did what he believed what was right...and I know that no matter what happened, he wouldn't have thought a second about giving himself up for Kyle if that's what it came down to."

She looked at John and Michael. "We need every pair of hands we can get. Start making calls. I know of several local Templar holding areas...we sometimes used them as interim holding areas for subjects who for whatever reason couldn't be moved immediately. I'm guessing they didn't move Desmond far, if they were wanting to get him or Kyle into an Animus. I'll draw up a list of addresses and get in contact with our Templar friend."

William protested as they got to their feet.

"Wait, you're telling me you're going to contact the person who likely turned Desmond into them to try and find out where they're holding him?"

Lucy shook her head.

"Lucas didn't turn in Desmond, William. As a matter of fact, Lucas is the reason John and Michael are still with us...he had the sniper's guns loaded with tranq darts, or they'd both be dead. He couldn't do anything to prevent the mission from going forward, but he did save two lives. We'll find Des and Ky."

Her gaze narrowed.

"William, I know we don't get along...but I need every pair of hands on this if we're going to save them. We can resolve our differences of style later, but I absolutely need your help with this. Please. If not for me or Des, then for Ky."

William eyed her, and he saw the real desperation in her eyes that she strove to hide.

He sighed heavily.

"I'll call Harlan. We're going to need to call in all the teams if we have any hope of finding Des and Ky before the Templars move them."

Lucy nodded, and William saw her wipe away tears as she said, "Thank you, Bill."

* * *

Desmond regained consciousness underwater, and he gasped reflexively and coughed as his head was pulled from the tub.

"Wakey, wakey, 17. Mr. Rikken wants a word with you."

Desmond was dragged towards a set of restraints that hung from the ceiling. He grunted as he was strung up under a bright light. A tall man wearing a suit entered the room, his green eyes tracing over Desmond.

Desmond's voice was hoarse as he growled, "Where's my son?"

Rikken shook his head. "Your devotion to your son is admirable, Mr. Miles. He's well, and he'll continue to be treated well as long as you cooperate with us."

Desmond's eyes closed, and without knowing how he did it, he reached out for his son. Dimly, he heard Rikken say something, and for a bare instant he felt fear..overwhelming fear...

He was brought out of it abruptly by a shock that chased his breath from his lungs, and he realized his Templar tormenter had shocked him with a cattle prod.

"None of that now, Mr. Miles. Every time you try to use your power, we'll be distracting you in the most painful way possible."

Desmond gasped, shuddering in the restraints. "What do you want?"

Rikken nodded, smiling at Desmond. "Much better, Mr. Miles. Let's get started." He took out a clipboard.

"Now...what happened to Warren Vidic and Daniel Cross?"

Desmond growled. "They're dead."

Rikken frowned. "Dead? How?"

Desmond coughed. "Why does it matter?"

Rikken scowled at the captive Assassin. "You killed them _both_?"

Desmond was silent, his golden eyes glinting in the near-darkness. "Maybe." Rikken's expression became angry. "Don't be flippant with me, Mr. Miles. What happened to them?"

Desmond bared his teeth at Rikken. "Vidic killed my brother. Cross was asking for it, though I kind of owed his ass for shooting me in Masyaf."

Rikken's expression twisted in rage.

"Warren Vidic was a good man, Mr. Miles, and the thought of you killing him turns my stomach. Where are their bodies?"

Desmond went silent. Rikken's gaze narrowed.

"Where are their bodies, Mr. Miles?"

Desmond's gaze settled on Rikken, his expression scornful. "Halfway to the center of the Earth, depending on which crevice my team dropped them into."

Rikken nodded to the interrogator, who drove the cattle prod into Desmond's side. Desmond stiffened, his teeth grinding together as he refused to scream despite the pain, and after a minute, Rikken motioned for the interrogator to stop, and Desmond slumped against the restraints, his breath heaving in his lungs.

Rikken's expression hardened. "I assure you, Mr. Miles, this isn't a joke."

Desmond snarled. "Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" His eyes blazed with rage. "You put my son into a fucking ANIMUS. For Chrissakes he's just a baby!"

Rikken's temper was fraying, and Desmond grunted as the other man came up to him, forcing his head up. "If you won't cooperate with us, Mr. Miles, we'll just pull the information from your son's DNA, much as Vidic did when you were in his custody last November."

Desmond growled, and his golden gaze flared with anger.

"If you hurt my son, there won't be anywhere in the world you'll be able to run from me, Rikken."

Rikken dropped Desmond's head with a growl.

He turned to the interrogator. "I want you to teach Mr. Miles a lesson or two. Make sure he understands who's in control here. If he looks like he's trying to use his power, persuade him otherwise."

The interrogator nodded, and as Rikken left the room, he smiled at Desmond. "Well, well. Looks like we'll have lots of time to get to know each other, 17."

Desmond tensed in the restraints, his eyes like topaz. "Thanks all the same, but I've got a date with your boss. It involves my blade between his ribs and his heart on a fucking spit."

The interrogator laughed. "I like it when you Assassins resist. It makes my job so much more...fun. Let's see if you can take it as well as your old man, hmm?"

**A/N: Action coming up...and if this chapter disturbs anyone, I'm sorry, but the Templars are probably gonna hold a grudge over the whole killing Vidic and Cross thing. It's okay though, cause I assure you Des is holding a much worse grudge.**

**Much. Worse.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**10/8/2013**

**0412**

**Unknown Location**

Ezio and Altair crept silent as ghosts along the corridors of the Templar compound. There'd been a brief argument between them when Desmond had ordered them to find his son.

Altair had wanted to go back for Desmond immediately, and Ezio had shaken his head, whispering harshly in English that Desmond would rather he die then they fail at saving Kyle. Each of them shared in the pain Desmond was now being subjected to, and they knew they only had as long as he managed to remain conscious to find Kyle and get him to safety.

They made their way down the corridor, their boots silent on the tile floors. They could feel Desmond weakening, the interrogator had kept him awake the entire night, refusing him any rest, and in that time they'd managed to locate their distant descendant.

The baby was not heavily guarded at the moment, and Altair and Ezio avoided the cameras easily. Part of their time spent at the Assassin hideout had been spent with Desmond and the other Assassins teaching each man the ways of modern infiltration, and both ancestors had unsurprisingly excelled at the training.

That training saved them now as Altair narrowly dodged a moving camera's light, flattening himself against the wall under it.

Ezio followed the elder Assassin's lead, and they made their way towards the Animus room. Luckily for them the compound was not large, and not customized, it was housed in an old warehouse near some docks. Altair had been able to smell the water as they mapped their escape route.

Ezio's blade slid into the back of the Templar guard's throat, and he and Altair quietly stashed the bodies in a storage locker. He motioned to the elder Assassin as they approached the Animus room. The baby was not on the Animus, and Ezio's sharp eyes spied the baby lying in a cage-like crib to one side of the lab.

Moving quickly, Ezio picked up Kyle, whose eyes opened, wide with fear. The look tore at Ezio's heart, and he cradled the boy, murmuring softly in Italian. The baby reached up as he usually did to tug on Ezio's beard, and the Italian Assassin smiled.

"Ah, _bello mio_."

Altair stood back from the computer console, having inserted the strange device Desmond had slipped into his robes as they'd been forced to leave the subway car. He'd told Altair to find a place in the lab where it fit, and Altair had tried a few different holes before he found one the device plugged into with a solid click. A little light flickered within it as it came to life, and Altair motioned to Ezio as they crept back to the door.

They made their way towards the exit they'd mapped out, feeling Desmond weaken, and behind them, the USB drive Altair had planted copied its code into the lab computers.

* * *

Rebecca's cell phone dinged at the same time as everyone else's in the van. Frowning, she looked at the message. A string of numbers, endlessly repeated, and then her eyes widened.

"Guys! I got a text! It's satellite coordinates!"

The others nodded. Rebecca hauled her laptop over to her, typing in the coordinates. The map spun the virtual globe around and then the coordinates settled on a warehouse in Hoboken, right off the river.

"C'mon, I bet that's where Des is!"

John and Michael nodded, tightening their gear. William looked at Shaun. "Drop me off here. I'll head to La Guardia to pick up Harlan and meet you there."

Shaun's expression was set in extreme concentration as he dodged traffic. Lucy looked at him from the passenger seat, and like the others, she was dressed in combat gear, a white hood pulled low over her blonde hair.

"Looks like the info Lucas gave us about the Templar computers was accurate, or that signal wouldn't have gotten through."

Lucy swallowed, then steeled herself.

"Let's hope we get there in time."

* * *

Altair and Ezio were both stumbling as they reached the exit, blinking into the light of the rising sun.

Desmond was very close to unconsciousness now, and Altair and Ezio stared at one another. They must stay with Kyle until the rest of the Assassins got there. Altair looked at Ezio. "Perhaps if one of us returns to Desmond, the other will be able to wait for the others."

Ezio nodded, cradling Kyle gently despite the way his hands trembled. "Go. The little one is calmer with me, and his cries must not attract attention."

Altair inclined his head once, clasping the other man's wrist in the age-old warrior's gesture.

"I know you will protect him. I will help Desmond."

Altair faded from view, and Ezio was alone.

Kyle blinked at him, his golden gaze distressed, and he whimpered. "Come, little one..." he whispered to the baby in Italian. "Let us find a place to wait for your _mama_."

* * *

Desmond was beyond resistance as the interrogator hit him again. Altair's voice echoed in his mind.

"Your son is safe. Ezio is with him, and the others are on their way. You must stay awake, Desmond...for your son's sake, you must stay awake..."

Desmond focused on Altair's voice, and his cracked lips moved as he whispered, "Get me...down..."

His interrogator heard him, and he yanked Desmond's head up by his hair.

"What did you say? Hmm? You want me to stop?"

Desmond managed to blink a swollen eye at the Templar, and his lips cracked and bled anew as he forced himself to smile at his tormentor.

"Oh no, I was talking to the voices in my head..." he rasped. "You know, the ones they put there with the Animus..."

His interrogator snarled, driving the cattle prod into his chest.

"What are you talking about?"

Outside the cell, there was the sound of gunfire, and an alarm blared. His tormentor grabbed a gun from the desk, opening the cell door. Desmond saw him stumble back into the cell, a throwing knife embedded in his chest, and to Desmond's surprise Lucy stepped over his body, another knife readied in her hands.

She was dressed in combat gear, a white hood pulled low over her eyes, and those eyes filled with tears as she beheld Desmond's battered form.

"Oh, my God, Des..."

Desmond managed to smile at her. "I like the new look, Luce..."

Lucy smiled tightly at him. "Necessity being the mother of invention, and all that."

Her blade cut through his bonds, and Desmond felt John's hands and hers support him gently to the ground. "My...my right arm..." he rasped. "I can't feel it."

Lucy's hands gently probed his shoulder, which was twisted at an unnatural angle.

She muttered a vile curse. "It's dislocated, Des. Hold still...we'll try to get it back in place." She kissed him gently. "Try to relax...pay attention to me..."

Desmond felt John take his shoulder, and between one breath and the next, it popped back into place, and Desmond almost blacked out from the pain. He came back to himself as Lucy and John helped him to his feet.

"Ky?"

Lucy nodded. "He's fine, though it looks like they took blood, he had a band aid on his heel. We found Ezio with him outside, and he told us where you were."

Desmond nodded. "Rikken?" Lucy snarled. "Apparently left last night with that bitch England. We killed everyone else, and Mike's busy setting up the explosives."

Desmond sighed. "Let's get out of here...and when we get to the van, can I borrow your phone?"

Lucy smiled at him. "Sure Des."

* * *

Rikken frowned as his cell phone rang.

The number was unlisted, and he pressed the answer button.

"Rikken."

A voice raspy from screaming came over the line. "Morning, Rikken. Sleep well?"

Rikken sat up in bed, and he forced himself to be calm as he replied, "Mr. Miles. I did indeed sleep well, which is more than I can say for you."

Desmond growled. "You're right about that. I didn't sleep much, but you'll be happy to know the bastard you left to torture me is taking a permanent nap courtesy of my wife."

Rikken growled.

"Interrogators are expensive to train, Mr. Miles...I'm afraid I'll have to add that to the bill I'm going to send you."

Desmond was silent a moment, then said, "You remember that conversation we had before you left? Your goons hurt my boy, and that means I'm going to be making good on my promise. Congratulations, Rikken, you now have my absolutely undivided attention until the day my blade cuts out your heart."

Rikken was going to reply, but the Assassin had hung up. Growling, he tried to call back the number only to find it blocked. He stared at his cell phone another moment, then growled to himself. "We'll see about that, Assassin."

**A/N: Two chapters down and I didn't work on any of my homework for next week...damn you, plot bunny! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**10/8/2013**

**0800**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

"I'm not positive this is the best idea, Luce..." Desmond muttered as they approached the ER entrance of Kingsbrook Jewish. Lucy had changed out of her gear, and Kyle nestled against her as she steered Desmond towards the sliding glass doors. His steps were slowed, and she could tell it hurt him to walk.

"Des, I reported the kidnapping to my boss...I ought to have figured he'd report it to the police, and at this point, having you in a public hospital will make it harder for the Templars to get to you. Besides..." Her blue eyes traced over him, and he saw worry in her gaze.

"You might not feel all the damage the interrogator did to you. You need to be checked out. If you're bleeding inside somewhere it could kill you before we figure out what's wrong, and we don't have the equipment they have at a normal hospital."

William's voice was quiet as he said, "I don't normally agree with putting us in the public eye either son, but that interrogator did a lot worse to you than he did to me."

Desmond shook his head, and Lucy could feel him shake. "I still don't like it, Luce."

Desmond steeled himself as Lucy and his father led him through the double doors. Desmond saw the receptionist's eyes go wide as he was led in.

"What on earth happened to you?" she demanded, and Lucy answered. "I need to discuss that with a doctor in private."

The receptionist's eyes settled on Lucy.

"And you are?"

Lucy growled. "I'm Lucy Miles. This is my husband, Desmond, and his father, William. Two days ago, my husband was kidnapped, and when we found him today, we brought him here. We called the police, but they're not here yet..." Lucy didn't have to falsify the tears that filled her eyes as she said, "They tortured him."

A doctor appeared from behind the counter, her eyes widening at seeing Desmond's state. "Get a wheelchair."

Desmond was grateful to sit down as he was wheeled back to the ER beds. The doctor looked at Lucy and William seriously as she said, "Would you mind giving me a few minutes alone with Desmond? I know you're concerned about him."

Lucy nodded, shifting the now-sleeping Kyle in her arms.

The doctor closed the door to the ER room and shut the blinds. Desmond tensed as he sat on the bed.

"Relax, Mr. Miles...I know you're probably edgy after what...what you went through, but I assure you I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Doctor Lyndon."

Desmond sighed, shivering.

"Call me Desmond..." Desmond swallowed. "The...the guys who did this always called me 'Mr. Miles.'" The doctor frowned. "Do you know who did this to you?"

Desmond shook his head, feigning distress. "Not really...all I remember seeing was a logo I thought I'd seen on TV, or something...a drug company?"

He shook his head as if confused, wincing. Lucy had been right...instead of getting better, his pain level was increasing.

The doctor frowned, then handed him a bottle.

"Did it look like this?"

The Abstergo logo was printed prominently on the bottle, and Desmond nodded. "That's it."

Dr. Lyndon scribbled something on his chart. "Let's assess the damage Mr. uhh...Desmond. Please put on the medical gown...take off everything under it and lie down."

Desmond swallowed. "I...This is going to sound silly, but would you mind if Luce...were in here with me?"

Dr. Lyndon looked sympathetic. "Of course not, Desmond. You get into that gown and bed and I'll bring her in."

She stepped out as Desmond began to undress, and Lucy turned to her, absently rocking Kyle, whose golden eyes focused on her curiously. Dr. Lyndon blinked, looking down at Kyle in shock.

"My goodness...he does take after his father, doesn't he?" Lucy smiled tightly, her expression a little sad.

"Yes, he does. Is Desmond okay?"

The doctor sighed.

"He's getting into the gown now. He asked that you be present for the...exam." She shook her head. "After what he's been through, I can't say I blame him."

Desmond was lying in the hospital bed as they re-entered the room. Lucy's chest tightened as she noticed the patterns of bruising and abrasions around his wrists, and she saw Dr. Lyndon's expression go hard.

"Desmond...if at any moment you feel uncomfortable being examined, tell me and I'll stop immediately, as long as it's not something life-threatening."

Desmond nodded, and Lucy silently came around to take his hand.

* * *

Rikkin shuffled through the reports the lab had sent regarding the blood tests run on Desmond's son. The blood work looked normal, but the genetic tests showed high amounts of Precursor DNA...higher than any other human they'd seen other than Desmond himself.

Desmond's son was an almost pure strain of Precursor DNA.

Rikkin growled as he crumpled the test results. A Precursor throwback, and they'd let him slip through their fingers. They needed to get the boy back, at any cost. The real weapons weren't the Pieces themselves...it was their wielders.

How could they have missed that simple fact for so long? Rikkin's eyes narrowed. He picked up his cell phone, dialing England's number.

When she answered, he growled, "Send Juhani after Subject 18. We need to retrieve him at all costs, even if it means killing 17." There was a pause, and then he growled, "Make sure you don't screw it up this time."

* * *

Dr. Lyndon's face was somber as she entered Desmond's hospital room the next morning. It had taken him until 2 AM to persuade his father to take his wife and son home. He roused, his golden gaze blinking at her in the morning light, and she forced herself to smile at him.

"Good morning, Desmond. How are you feeling?"

Desmond offered her a tired grin. "I gotta say Doc, whatever they shot me up with earlier is great stuff. I think I actually managed to get some sleep."

Dr. Lyndon smiled, the smile genuine now.

"Well, I'm glad you're in good spirits...I got the results of the tests we ran on you last night...and to be perfectly honest, Desmond..."

She shook her head. "I was a medic in the Army for 10 years, and your injuries are akin to what I saw men coming off the battlefield with. According to X-rays, you were shot in the left shoulder, had broken ribs repeatedly in the past, suffered numerous skull fractures and you have severe tearing in your right shoulder that indicates it was dislocated. Your wife indicated that she and one of your friends managed to pop it back into place." She shook her head sympathetically. "That must have hurt."

Desmond nodded. "Yeah. After everything else though, it didn't hurt much in comparison."

"That's what the X-rays show...your exterior injuries consist of electrical burns consistent with the use of a cattle prod, several cuts we had to stitch up, bruising and abrasions. Thankfully there wasn't any internal bleeding, though you're bruised up inside almost as bad as outside."

Dr. Lyndon took a breath.

"In other words, Desmond...you're lucky to be alive."

Desmond nodded.

"So...when can I get sprung from this joint, Doc?"

Dr. Lyndon stared at him. "Did you not just hear me rattle off the extensive, multiple life-threatening injuries you've received?"

Desmond sighed.

"Trust me Doc when I say I have members of my family who lived through much worse." Dr. Lyndon frowned.

"You need rest, at the very least, Desmond. You may feel fine on the painkillers, but I assure you if you aggravate those injuries too much, the painkillers won't prevent any one of them from killing you."

Desmond frowned.

"Doc, let me level with you. There's a bunch of corporate goons after my family, and what they did to me is nothing compared to what they'll do to my son if they get their hands on him. I don't have time to lie around in a hospital watching bad soaps."

Dr. Lyndon frowned, blocking access to the door.

"Desmond, you haven't said why you think these people are after your family."

Desmond growled.

"You heard of an Animus Doc?"

Dr. Lyndon nodded. Desmond's gaze bored into her as he said, "Have you seen the news reports of people committed to mental institutions due to Animus overexposure?" Dr. Lyndon hesitated, then nodded.

"Who the hell do you think they tested those things on before they went commercial?"

Dr. Lyndon's gaze widened.

"You were an Animus test subject?" she said.

Desmond nodded grimly. "Turns out people with certain genes are able to use the Animus better than others, Doc. The members of my family fall into that category, and that's why they're after me. In Abstergo's records, I'm Subject 17. They kidnapped me last year and put me in that thing...a relative of mine named Clay went crazy and killed himself when they left him in it a little too long."

Desmond's gaze was like topaz as he regarded her, and she swore his eyes glowed for a moment.

"That won't happen to my son. Now give me the release forms. I want to go home."

**A/N: This chapter is supposed to represent the shift in the Assassins attitudes...while they don't admit to being Assassins, the Templars have won because they control the court of public opinion.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**10/18/2013**

**1545**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

It had been quiet in the week since Desmond's rescue from the Templar safe house. They now varied which caretaker had Kyle, so as better to keep the Templars off his trail. Desmond lay on his couch in front of the now bullet-proofed windows. The blinds were pulled, darkening the room from the afternoon sun. He knew Juhani was still looking for Kyle – Harlan had contacted other branches of the Assassins, seeking information about the Templar. Desmond had shortly thereafter received a report from Gavin, captain of the _Altair II_.

Desmond's lips quirked in a grin as he remembered how amused Altair had been that the modern Order had named a ship after him...twice. Gavin had been quite surprised to speak to Altair on the telephone, at first thinking Desmond was playing an elaborate trick on him. William had assured Gavin Altair was really present, and Gavin had expressed a wish to meet him someday.

Desmond knew from having read the report that Juhani would only be concerned with his current target, which meant he stayed in constant contact with Lucy, John and Michael. Currently, Kyle was with Lucy, and the constant stream of visitors to her office for "meetings" ensured that no one would be able to sneak away with the baby. Harlan watched Lucy and Kyle, just in case. Lucy had insisted Desmond stay home to rest, and her order had been unexpectedly backed up by both ancestral Assassins.

Desmond had given up arguing with all three of them.

He sighed, his eyes drifting closed. The apartment was silent, though Desmond knew John and Michael patrolled the adjoining buildings now, and Ezio and Altair remained ready to defend him if need be.

Still, it was nice to be alone for once...as alone as he could get anyway, with two of his ancestors residing in his head.

The quiet was short lived. Desmond roused at the sound of shouting – a man's voice, raised in anger.

Inwardly, he sighed. When he'd lived in his old apartment, he'd rarely been home long enough to worry about the affairs of his neighbors.

Desmond's eyes began to drift closed again, and his sleep was once again interrupted by the man's shouting, followed this time by the sound of a harsh slap and a woman's voice, sobbing.

He was on his feet automatically, moving for the door before he was fully aware of what he was doing.

He opened the door, cocking his head, and he heard the man's shouting echo down the hallway.

Frowning, he made his way down the hallway, following the sound and stopping at a door on the other end of the breezeway.

Desmond growled as he heard the man's shouts clearly now through the door.

"You gonna backtalk to me again, Trish?"

Desmond heard a vaguely familiar voice respond, "N-No..."

Taking a breath, Desmond raised one hand and knocked firmly on the door. There was instant, frightened silence, and Desmond waited as the door was yanked open a few inches, a man with dark eyes and swarthy skin eyeing him suspiciously.

"What do you want?"

Desmond eyed the man, then said, "I live down the hall, and I couldn't help but overhear some commotion. Everything okay?"

The man snarled.

"This isn't your business. Just walk away, man."

To Desmond's surprise, the woman's voice came from behind the man, her tone incredulous.

"Desmond?!"

The man instantly turned, a snarl on his face. "What the fuck Trish, you know him?" Desmond's eyes settled on the battered form of Dr. Lyndon, who stared at him with wide eyes, wearing nothing but a robe which revealed more of her than he cared to see. The imprint of an open-handed slap was clearly visible on her face.

Desmond's expression hardened, and he kept his voice calm as he said, "Hi, Doc."

Dr. Lyndon blinked at him. The man snarled at Dr. Lyndon, and his fist was suddenly stopped as Desmond caught it, twisting the man's arm cruelly behind his back and pushing him into the apartment, closing the door with his foot.

The man tried to struggle, and Desmond increased the pressure until he howled, freezing as he felt the tip of Desmond's hidden blade in his back. "Move wrong and my knife might just slip into your spine, asshole. Now sit down and shut the fuck up."

Desmond kept his blade leveled at the man as he averted his eyes from Dr. Lyndon, blushing. Lyndon blushed hotly as she tied it tightly over herself.

The man growled. "Trish, you hired this guy to kill me?"

Desmond snorted, rolling his eyes. "Don't be an idiot. If I'd been sent here to kill you, you'd have been dead before you opened the door."

Dr. Lyndon stared at Desmond, still in shock.

"You...you look like you're healing pretty fast," she said, somewhat lamely.

Desmond shrugged. "Members of my family have always healed fast." He eyed her, his expression tightening at seeing traces of old bruising on her legs and a fresh ring around her throat.

"Desmond...how...are you here?"

Desmond sighed. "I actually wasn't kidding when I said I lived down the hall. I was trying to rest...per your instructions...when I heard the commotion."

Dr. Lyndon stared at him. "You're serious."

Desmond nodded.

She sighed heavily. "I'm pretty sure a patient rescuing a doctor from her boyfriend violates a privacy law somewhere."

Desmond shrugged. "Probably. At this point, I think it's safer if you come with me." Trish stared fearfully at the man, who snarled.

"If you leave with him I'll find you and kill you, bitch."

Desmond's jaw set. "Doc, you might want to get dressed." Dr. Lyndon shook her head, "Desmond, don't hurt him..."

Desmond's gaze fixed on the man. "I won't. I promise."

Swallowing, Lyndon stepped into the bedroom, dressing quickly, and when she stepped out of the bedroom, Desmond stood up. Her boyfriend was gone, and she looked around.

"Where did he go?"

Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, "I persuaded him it was a good idea for him to leave. C'mon."

* * *

Lucy unlocked the door to their apartment, hearing voices in the living room. She was surprised to see Desmond, Michael and John sitting across from the battered form of the doctor who'd treated Desmond in the hospital.

"Dr. Lyndon?"

The woman looked over at her, immediately wincing, and it was then that Lucy noticed bruising around her throat...the imprints of fingers.

"Oh my God...what happened to you?"

Her voice was low as she replied, "Hi, Mrs. Miles...apparently we're neighbors. My...my boyfriend got a little upset...and Desmond heard him shouting..."

Desmond's gaze was like topaz, his jaw set.

"John, Michael, can one of you put up Doc Lyndon for a night?"

Michael nodded. "Yes, sir." He blushed a little looking at the doctor. "That is...if you're okay with it, ma'am."

Dr. Lyndon swallowed, averting her gaze from Michael's. "No...no problem. Thank you."

* * *

Juhani sat back wearily in his hotel room. It'd been a week since the disaster at the safe-house, and the only orders he'd received on checking in were to wait for further instructions.

He'd been forced to flee the Templar safe house when the Assassins had attacked, and he'd narrowly avoided being killed by a vengeful Altair as they'd passed each other in the hallway...Altair had appeared to be heading for the interrogation room they were holding Desmond in. Juhani hadn't stayed around to wait for the Assassin rescue team once he'd realized Rikkin and England had already left.

He was still angry at England and Rikkin for leaving him there to face the Assassins' vengeance. The ought to have known the Assassins would send a rescue team, though how they'd found them so quickly remained a mystery that needed solving.

The Finnish Templar sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he heard his phone ding with a new e-mail. Frowning, he opened it.

**To: J. Berg**

**From: L. England**

**Subject: Subject 18 retrieval**

**Alan wishes for you to retrieve subject 18 again. Kill 17 and anyone else who interferes with the retrieval. You are to bring the subject to the HQ in Rome. ****We expect you in one week. To ensure your strict compliance, your daughter will be staying as our guest.**

**Don't screw it up again.**

**- Laetitia**

Juhani blinked, clicking open the attachment to the e-mail. A digital photo of his daughter's tearful face burned into his vision, and he picked up his cell phone, dialing England's number. She picked up, and he snarled, "What the fuck are you doing, Laetitia? Why do you have my daughter?"

England's voice was cool as she replied, "You let the subjects escape and blow up one of our safe houses. That was a mess, Juhani, and Alan wasn't pleased at all."

Juhani snarled, his voice shaking with rage.

"That mess wasn't my fault, if your idiot lab techs had obeyed my instructions! Why didn't you inform me you were moving to another location?" England growled. "We thought you had it handled, Juhani. You might want to think about checking your text messages more often."

Juhani almost threw his phone against the wall, but stopped himself in time to growl, "Why are you holding my daughter? For God's sake, she's barely three!" England sighed. "Alan wanted to ensure you will do whatever it takes to retrieve subject 18 and keep him in your custody until you can deliver him to Rome." Juhani could almost hear the smirk on her face as she said, "Think of it as a test of your faith. I assure you she won't be harmed...as a matter of fact, she's here coloring in my office."

Juhani's throat closed. "I want to talk to her."

A moment later, his daughter's voice came over the line.

"Daddy?"

Juhani sighed with relief. "Yes, Ansa...it's Daddy."

Ansa's voice was timid as she said, "Daddy, I want to go home."

Juhani had to swallow another lump as he said, "It's alright, Ansa. You'll get to go home with Daddy soon, as soon as I finish my work."

England's voice came back onto the line. "You have proof she's alive and well. When you deliver subject 18 to Rome, we'll send you home with your daughter."

Juhani growled helplessly. "One week." England hung up, and Juhani stared at the phone a moment before he did throw it against the wall.

**A/N: Thanks to Jas-El for the additional info on Gavin and Harlan. Sorry valkyrieXhawk, not much fluff in this chapter, I wanted to move things along, but next chapter will be fluffy, just for you. :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**10/18/2013**

**23:40**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Lucy could feel how tense Desmond was as they lay tangled together. Kyle slept in his crib at the foot of their bed, and she could see the glimmer of gold in Desmond's eyes. "Des? You want to talk about it?" she said, softly, and Desmond's jaw worked.

"Not really, Luce." She saw his expression tighten. Lucy sighed. "Des...it's obvious it's bothering you a lot. Keeping it to yourself won't do anything but make you angry about it all night."

Desmond sighed heavily, and she saw his eyes close. After a moment, he spoke softly, "I really, really wanted to kill him, Luce. When I touched his mind...I saw everything..." He swallowed. "I saw everything he did to her, Luce. It took everything I had to order him to leave and never return."

Lucy felt him shiver, and she remained silent, letting him talk.

"I...you hear about those things, you know? I heard about a few cases at the bar, but it doesn't really sink in when its...someone else." He shuddered. "Since I absorbed the Apples...no one whose mind I touch is someone else, Luce. Every mind I touch lives on in mine, stored..."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "It's agony, Luce. I can't make the images stop. I can't make the _feelings_ stop..." His breath shuddered. "He enjoyed it...he fucking enjoyed it, and I don't want to feel that."

His eyes opened, bright with anguish. "I wish someone could make me forget."

Lucy grabbed his hand, bringing it up to touch her head. "I can't make you forget...but maybe I can help..."

Desmond stared at her, and she kissed him, gently. "C'mon Des."

Golden light wreathed her head, and Desmond's eyes widened and dilated. Lucy's gaze held his as her hands moved over his bare skin and then lower until he gasped, and Lucy smiled as the anguish faded from his gaze, replaced with primal hunger.

He kissed her deeply, the glow outlining their forms as they became one.

* * *

Juhani's gaze narrowed as he focused on the golden light that filled the bedroom. He crouched on an adjoining rooftop, clad in dark tactical gear. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and he shivered despite the gear he wore. He couldn't see anything thanks to the newly-installed blinds, but he was fairly sure the light indicated Desmond and Lucy were still awake. He frowned. He knew the baby's crib was in their bedroom, and he had hoped to get in and out while Desmond's bodyguards were away.

He heard the slight noise behind him too late as a voice whispered, "Y'know Templar, it's rude to spy on people." Juhani didn't bother turning as something hit him over the head and he blacked out.

Juhani came to slowly, and the first thing he noticed was the smell of...bacon? He forced his eyes open, finding himself sprawled on Desmond's couch.

He'd been disarmed, though he wasn't restrained in any way. He blinked owlishly at the sunlight streaming in the window, and he frowned at the form of Desmond standing in front of the stove.

The Finnish Templar stared as the young Assassin lifted bacon from the pan, putting it on a plate that already contained several omelets. His stomach grumbled a protest as Desmond turned to face him, his golden eyes glinting in the sunlight.

"Morning."

Juhani sat up slowly, looking around the apartment. It appeared they were alone, and Desmond set the food on the small dining table.

His gaze went back to Desmond as he poured two cups of coffee, setting them on the table. Juhani was silent as Desmond spoke, his tone conversational.

"I never did drink coffee until Ky was born...now I think maybe I drink too much of it."

Juhani growled.

"What kind of game is this?"

Desmond looked at him for a moment, then said, "It's no game, Juhani. We've been watching you, that's all. You looked like you were starting to get cold out there last night, so I had John bring you in."

Juhani got to his feet. "I could kill you where you stand, Assassin."

Desmond's expression became amused. "I doubt that. Now, do you want an omelet?" Juhani looked around. "Where are your illustrious ancestors? Hiding them away?"

Desmond sighed. "No, they're here. They're always in my head, Juhani. Sometimes it really sucks, having two ancestors listening in on every stray thought." He smirked a little. "Right now they're both telling me I'm insane for talking to you."

Juhani snarled, tensing to attack, but something in the golden gaze stilled him.

"You should listen to your ancestors."

Desmond shrugged. "Maybe." His gaze settled on the other man. "Harlan really wants me to let him kill you. Seems he owes you for Florence." Juhani growled. "That's fine with me, he owes me for these scars. His attack on the Italian Abstergo building led me to Florence, where I was burned when Maestranzi blew the place." The blonde Templar frowned. "My own daughter didn't recognize me when she saw me."

Desmond frowned. "What's your daughter's name?" Juhani sighed. "Ansa...she just turned three." He shook himself, remembering who he was talking to.

"Speaking of offspring, is your son around anywhere?"

Desmond smirked. "You slept in awhile. He left this morning with his uncles and mom."

Juhani made his way to the door. "Well then I guess I'll be off."

Desmond's voice was very quiet as he said, "They took your daughter, didn't they? To force you to obey."

Juhani whirled, his gaze angry and blurted. "They wouldn't have taken her if you hadn't made a colossal mess of that safe house!"

Desmond eyed him. "You know as well as I do if it'd been your daughter on that Animus, you'd have done exactly as I did. Nothing overrides the instinct to protect your child. You've been in an Animus, and you know damn well why I was desperate to get my son out of it."

Juhani's eyes closed for a moment, and he said, "If I don't bring your son to them in a week, they'll likely kill my Ansa. The Templars don't tolerate failure of any kind, Assassin."

Desmond's voice was quiet as he spoke, "What if we helped you get your daughter back?"

Juhani blinked, staring at Desmond, whose gaze was deadly serious.

Despite himself, Juhani laughed, the laughter containing a tinge of panic. "You? You'd help me? Have you forgotten I'm a Master Templar and your sworn enemy?"

Desmond sighed. "You might be an enemy, but I learned a hard lesson yesterday, Juhani. No one is somebody else. Not to me." His gaze fixed on Juhani, and he said, "Before I killed Daniel Cross, I touched his mind. In that instant, I knew everything he knew, including the fact they shot you up with a tracking device."

Juhani's gaze narrowed.

"You kept me here long enough for them to think you've turned me. You're much more clever than Vidic gave you credit for." Desmond smirked.

"I've heard that a few times. Why don't you sit down and have something to eat before you go looking for my wife and son? You might as well. They're on a plane by now, and the next one doesn't leave for another three hours."

Juhani eyed the door. Desmond waited patiently, and something in Juhani was suddenly weary. He growled. "Fine."

* * *

Michael stretched as he padded out of his bedroom. It'd been a long night, and he felt every one of the buildings he'd climbed on his patrols. A soft voice startled him as the doctor from the hospital said, "Oh! Uh...good morning..."

Michael blinked, remembering that he'd agreed to let her stay with him the previous night.

"Ah...morning, ma'am." He grinned a little sheepishly. "I kinda forgot you were here...I was tired last night."

Trish smiled at him. "It's perfectly okay...I get the impression you spend a lot of time...looking after Desmond."

Michael nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Trish looked at him, her gaze curious. "I get the impression Desmond's an important man...you and John don't leave him alone for a second. Does it have to do with the guys who hurt him a few weeks ago?"

Michael nodded. "I'm not at liberty to say anything else, ma'am...but yes, Desmond is important. The reason he is isn't for me to say."

Trish sighed. "Well...thanks for letting me stay here. My shift starts at the hospital soon, so I'd better get back to my place and change...you...mind giving me a lift?"

Michael shook his head. "Not at all, ma'am. It's the start of my shift as well."

Trish smiled at him, and he suddenly had to swallow, averting his eyes. He'd never been good around women, and the other guys had teased him mercilessly about his shyness. Kyle and John had been forced a few times to defend him when they'd served together, and the thought of Kyle caused a brief spike of pain to go through him.

"Are you okay?"

Michael shook himself.

"Yeah. Sorry about that, ma'am. We should...get going."

Trish frowned at him. "Ma'am makes me feel sort of old. I'm Trish...only my mom calls me Patricia. Your name is Michael, right? Do you prefer Michael or Mike?"

Michael blinked at her forwardness. "Uh...Mike is fine."

Trish smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mike...now if we don't get going, we're both gonna be late for work."

**A/N: Last chapter for the night, considering I have to work tomorrow. Somewhat lemon-ish...my apologies.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**10/21/2013**

**0900**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Juhani blinked as he woke on the rooftop across from Desmond's apartment. The morning sun burned his eyes, and he looked around, confused. Had it been a dream then? He shook his head, checking his watch. It wasn't like him to fall asleep while on surveillance, and he growled, wasting no time as he made his way over to the apartment, unceremoniously kicking open the door.

He stopped and stared incredulously. The apartment wasn't the same as the one he remembered watching. He frowned. The last thing he remembered was seeing a golden light in the bedroom...or had it been the right apartment at all?

Juhani shook himself, angry now. What was wrong with him?

He stepped out of the apartment, and as he did so, his cell phone buzzed.

He picked it up, growling. "Yes?"

England's voice came over the speaker.

"Juhani! Where in the name of the Father have you been? You haven't answered your phone in days...we'd feared the Assassins had killed you."

Juhani shook his head. "What in the name of all that's holy are you talking about? What do you mean I've been gone for days?" A coldness settled into his stomach.

"Where's Ansa?"

England's voice was slow as she replied, "She's still our guest. What's gotten into you? Have you found the Assassins?"

Juhani looked helplessly at the apartment he'd broken into...the one that definitely wasn't the one he'd been watching all this time...or was it?

He was so confused.

"I...I don't know," he whispered, and England's tone became concerned.

"Juhani? Have you found the Assassins? Last word was that you had them under surveillance..."

The blonde Templar shook his head. "I...I don't know. I...I thought I had...but the apartment isn't the same...it's...they're not here."

England's tone became cautious. "What are you talking about?" Juhani shook his head. "I don't know! I...I don't know."

England was quiet a moment, then said, "Report back to base immediately."

Juhani nodded almost absently, looking back at the apartment once before he left.

* * *

Desmond cautiously opened the bedroom door, his steps silent on the carpet as he closed the door that hung open. Lucy looked out after him. "Did it work?"

Desmond nodded grimly. "Seems so."

Lucy breathed a soft sigh of relief as Desmond quietly closed the door to the apartment. "If nothing else, it'll give us a few days to regroup. We'll need to head to an Assassin camp for awhile. He may or may not figure out he had the right place."

Lucy nodded. "I'll get us packed." Ezio and Altair crept from the bedroom, Ezio holding a content Kyle, who stared entranced at the heavy ring that adorned Ezio's finger.

Altair eyed Desmond as Lucy left the room and spoke quietly.

"I had not thought of using the Apple in that manner, Desmond."

Desmond frowned.

"I figured if Al Mualim could use it to make you believe you'd been killed, I could use it to convince Juhani he'd had the wrong place."

Altair nodded, his gaze shrewd. "There was more than that..." Desmond nodded. "When I touched his mind, the first and foremost thing he's worried about is his little girl." His gaze settled on the contented form of his son, still playing with Ezio's ring.

"I know how that feels."

Lucy appeared, a suitcase in her hands. "Most of the camps were destroyed thanks to Cross...where are we headed?"

Desmond deftly took the car keys from her as he said, "You'll see when we get there. I sent Harlan and the others on ahead to set up awhile ago. John and Mike should be waiting with the van."

Ezio handed Kyle to Lucy as he disappeared, and Altair and Desmond shared a glance before Altair too faded. Desmond looked at his family. "Let's get going."

* * *

Rikkin frowned as he read over the report from England. Juhani had been brought back to the New York headquarters, and he'd seemed confused and agitated, unusual for him. He'd ranted about losing the Assassins, and when England had questioned him, he'd said only that he'd had a strange dream, but refused to tell them what it was about and had woken up on a building adjacent to the wrong apartment.

England had recommended Juhani be taken off the retrieval of subject 18 until he could be evaluated. Rikkin scowled. He was positive subject 17 had something to do with Juhani's mysterious breakdown, but he had no proof if Juhani couldn't explain what had happened. He was still scowling as another e-mail dinged in his inbox, and he clicked it open, his gaze narrowing.

To: A. Rikkin

From: D. Miles

Subject: Juhani

You really should let him go home with his daughter. Kidnapping her was a real dick move, even for a Templar.

- Desmond

Rikkin stared incredulously at the message. Growling, he attempted to trace it back, but the header information just bounced him between random mail servers until it timed out. He snarled, slamming his hand down on the keyboard before picking up the phone and dialing an extension.

When Laetitia picked up, he snarled, "Why am I getting snide messages from Subject 17 about Juhani and his daughter?"

England was quiet for a long moment, then said, "I had his daughter brought here to ensure he'd bring us Subject 18."

Rikkin snarled. "What I want to know is how Subject 17 apparently knows about it!"

England sighed. "We can only presume it's the power of the Apple. Short of studying 17, there's no way to know for sure...Vidic kept terrible records to begin with, and quite a few were destroyed when the Assassins blew up his lab."

Rikkin resisted the urge to slam the phone down. "I want answers. Get me some, at all costs!"

* * *

Lucy dozed as Desmond drove the Assassins' van, singing softly along to the radio. Kyle slept in his car seat, and in the back of the van sat Michael and John, playing cards.

She roused as Desmond pulled over. "Just grabbing a fill up, Luce."

Lucy frowned, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Where are we going, Des? We've been driving for hours...this looks like the area around Turin."

Desmond nodded. "Probably because it is."

"Where do you think I've been storing all the Pieces I've been having the teams gather?" Lucy blinked, staring at him. "You stored them in the Grand Temple?!"

Desmond held up a hand as she opened her mouth to protest. "Think about it Luce...this is the only place the Templars can't trace us to...or get into, without me opening the door. It's the perfect place to store the artifacts."

Lucy closed her mouth, trying to figure out an argument. Desmond waited patiently as the van filled, and Lucy frowned.

"I can't refute your logic, but that place creeps me out Desmond...I mean, it's the place Juno intended to be your tomb..."

Desmond sighed.

"I don't like it either Luce, but as far as security goes, it was the best choice. The camp is outside the Temple, if that makes you feel any better."

Lucy shuddered.

"Sorry Des, it doesn't."

Desmond wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, I'll try to make sure we're not here that long, but we've got to make sure the Templars are off our trail. We've got one more Piece to acquire...and it's going to be the hardest of them to get."

Lucy frowned. "What is it?"

Desmond grimaced. "The Papal Staff. Rikkin keeps it in his office in a glass case."

Lucy stared at him incredulously. "You're joking."

Desmond shook his head mutely, and Lucy sighed heavily. "Desmond, I thought we'd talked about things being boring for awhile."

Desmond smirked a little. "If I remember correctly, when I asked you to marry me I said I promised it wouldn't be boring...and I've kept my promise."

Lucy sighed, resting her head against his chest. "Yes, you have."

The gas pump dinged, and Desmond guided Lucy back to the van.

**A/N: Updates are slow tonight...I'm tired, but I'll get more written probably Friday. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**10/21/2013**

**20:30**

**Turin, New York, USA**

Lucy barely recognized the area outside the Temple when they arrived there. The Templars' van was gone, and a neat row of tents had been setup in the small clearing in front of the Temple entrance.

Desmond parked the van nearby, and immediately Harlan and William came over to help Rebecca drape camouflage netting over it. There was a large fire pit that had been dug in front of the tents, lined with rocks. Lucy paced around the camp, and Desmond steered her towards a tent near the end of the row.

"Think of it as going camping, Luce."

Lucy sighed, eyeing him. "Sure Des...we can eat s'mores and roast hotdogs and pretend there aren't Templars out to kill us, kidnap our son, and experiment on him."

Desmond sighed, his gaze darkening.

"Believe me, after using the powers of the Apple, I know very well how much danger we're in, Luce. Getting the last piece we need and figuring out where we're going to build the first part of the defense grid is going to be hard enough."

Lucy shook her head. "I'm sorry Des...that wasn't a fair thing to say. I know you're doing your best to protect us...sometimes I think that no matter what we do we're always going to be on the run from them."

Desmond's golden gaze turned away for a moment, and said quietly, "I don't want that life for us, Luce. I don't want Kyle to grow up being afraid all the time, like I was." Desmond's gaze was resolute as he looked back at her.

"That won't happen, Luce. No matter what I have to do to make sure it doesn't...I promise, this won't be forever."

Lucy leaned against him, wrapping one arm around his waist, and Desmond's arms entwined her and Kyle, who gurgled happily between them.

* * *

It was several hours later when Desmond roused to the feeling someone was watching him. Lucy slept beside him, their sleeping bags zipped together. Kyle slept in another sleeping bag, looking content, his chubby hands clasped together as if in prayer.

Desmond blinked in the darkness, but the feeling didn't go away. Frowning, he rolled out of the sleeping bag, turning on Eagle Vision as he crept from the tent, his hand around the hilt of his combat knife.

He saw the blue-outlined form of John, who turned to look at him, and John's voice said, "Something wrong, sir?"

Desmond frowned, his voice quiet. "Had a feeling something was watching me." John looked thoughtful. "I thought so too, for a minute, but then it went away...you see anything with your other sight?"

The young Mentor's glowing gaze swept the camp, and faintly he saw a trail of smoke. "Yes." He saw John rise to his feet, and Desmond stilled him with a hand.

"I'll follow it. Stay on watch. I've got my headset."

John nodded. "Be careful, sir."

Desmond nodded, his steps silent as he approached the smoky trail in his vision, following it into the trees, his steps on the forest floor automatically becoming the near-silent tread of the hunter – his experiences as Connor had taught him a great deal about moving silently in the forest. He unconciously channeled the native Assassin as he followed the trail through the forest.

His combat knife was reversed in his hand, and if he concentrated he could almost feel the slight movement of a bow and quiver against his back, the weight of a tomahawk on his hip, the brush of robes against his legs.

The trail led him for what he deemed at least a mile through the forest, and he arrived at last at the mouth of a cave – barely more than a hole in the cliff-face. He frowned, keeping his Eagle Vision on as he carefully squeezed into the crack.

His Eagle Vision had always served him well in dark environments, and the inside of the cave was utterly black. He moved cautiously into the larger cavern beneath...it was clear that at one point this cave had once had a larger entrance and that it had partially collapsed.

Desmond made his way back into the cave, and faintly ahead he saw a light. He slowed as he approached it, smelling sulfur as he got closer to it. The cave dead-ended at a small chamber, lit by the glow of the orb Desmond recognized from reliving Connor's life.

"_At last, you have come, cipher."_

Desmond straightened, and his voice was quiet as he said, "Minerva."

The ghostly figured of the Precursor woman nodded, looking relieved. _"I have awaited you since you left this place on the eve of the end...with the Temple drained of energy, I was forced to transfer myself here. __Until now you were not close enough to see the way here...__"_ The Precursor woman looked distressed.

"_This device is running out of energy...it was not designed to hold so much data at once, and it runs out of power. I beg you, cipher...release me from it before its energy fades." _

Desmond's gaze narrowed. "I'd wondered what had happened to you. What guarantees do I have that if I release you, you won't try to take over the world like Juno?"

Minerva shook her head. _"I helped you in the Temple before, cipher. I was not aware of Juno's treachery until you and the others dismantled the shield trigger."_ She wavered and faded a little, and her expression became panicked.

"_Please, cipher...help me! I do not wish to die!"_

The cave was suddenly cramped as Ezio and Altair appeared beside their descendant, and Desmond glanced at them. "What do you guys think? Should I help her?"

Altair and Ezio looked at one another, and then at the Precursor woman. "If she should be playing us false, Desmond, she would be easy enough to overpower. What I learned of their kind from the Apple suggests they are all as physically frail as was Juno."

Desmond nodded, extending his hand towards the fading figure of Minerva.

Golden light shot forth from the cave, and when it faded, Desmond turned on Eagle Vision and saw a form wreathed in blue kneeling before him. Minerva was naked, and Desmond thankfully couldn't see many details through his Eagle Vision.

Minerva's voice was strangely soft as she said, "Thank you, cipher." Desmond extended a hand, and the Precursor woman took it hesitantly. She weighed practically nothing, feather-light in Desmond's arms as he shrugged off his own hoodie, wrapping her in it and picking her up.

His ancestors led the way out of the cave as Desmond carried her back to the camp into the rising sun.

* * *

The camp turned to stare as Desmond emerged from the forest, trailed by Altair and Ezio, carrying a slight form in his arms, wrapped in his hoodie.

Lucy stared, her blue eyes wide, as she recognized the weary-looking woman in her husband's arms.

"Minerva?!"

The Precursor woman stared at her, and Desmond's voice was gruff as he said, "She needs some clothing before she freezes to death. Call everyone back to camp, I'm only explaining once."

Lucy found herself alone in their tent with the Precursor woman. Minerva seemed to be in shock, watching her with wide dark eyes as she held up various articles of clothing against the other woman's frame.

"Try these on."

Minerva blinked at her, looking confused at the pair of jeans Lucy handed her.

"I...I have never worn such clothing before."

Lucy regarded her. She looked frightened, like a lost child, and despite herself, Lucy sighed inwardly.

"Here. Let me show you..."

Minerva looked uncomfortable as she emerged from the tent with Lucy sometime later, dressed in a pair of Lucy's jeans and a heavy sweatshirt, her long dark hair having been braided. Desmond sat near the fire watching Kyle, who squirmed on a blanket towards a cricket that chirped nearby.

The others all looked up as she came into the circle of warmth around the fire, and Lucy sat beside her. "Are you hungry, Minerva? There's some breakfast left."

The Precursor woman eyed the eggs and bacon, her face taking on a greenish cast. "My people do not eat the flesh of other beings. I am grateful for your offer, but I cannot partake of your food."

Rebecca's voice broke in.

"Minerva, I'm a vegetarian...uh...that means I don't eat meat. I brought along some fruit and some protein bars. Come with me, they're in my tent."

Minerva blinked, getting up and following the brunette to her tent.

When she was gone, Desmond said quietly, "That trail I found last night led me to a cave...inside it I found the orb from Connor's village. Minerva had apparently copied herself to it, and it was running out of energy." His gaze was cast at the fire as he said, "Despite everything her kind have done to us, it didn't seem right to let her die like that."

Altair's voice was quiet as he spoke in halting English.

"How terrifying must it be, for a being all but immortal to face their end?"

There was a long silence at that, and then Desmond spoke.

"We'll figure out what to do with Minerva later. Right now, I think it's best if someone keep an eye on her. I still don't completely trust her." Lucy nodded, and to Desmond's surprise, she said, "Rebecca and I will keep an eye on her. She seems more comfortable around women."

Desmond nodded, and they looked down at a noise from Kyle. He'd managed to drag himself over to the edge of the blanket, and he had a pleased look on his face.

Desmond smiled, his golden gaze soft as he regarded his son.

"Another couple inches and you'd have caught your prey, eh?"

Kyle imitated his father's smile, and Lucy picked him up, cuddling him close as she looked at Desmond.

"So what's the next step, Des?"

Desmond motioned over John, who unrolled a map, weighing down the corners with rocks.

"This is a map of Abstergo in Rome. Rikkin's office is in their main HQ, obviously at the top of the building. It probably isn't very efficient to come up from ground level...we need to get in and get out as fast as possible." They stared at the map, and John said, "What about an air drop, sir?" Desmond looked thoughtful. "Risky and noisy, but the fastest way to get up there."

Minerva's voice broke into their conversation. "I have an idea, if you will hear it, cipher."

Desmond looked up at her. "Call me Desmond, and if you have idea, we could use one right about now."

Minerva nodded, moving close to crouch next to them.

**A/N: I hope to get in a couple chapters this weekend, but we'll see how successful I am at it.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**10/23/2013**

**0900**

**Manhattan, New York, USA**

Juhani stared through the window at his daughter. She played amongst the other children at the Abstergo-run daycare. It grated on his nerves that England wouldn't let him leave, despite having pulled him off the hunt for Subject 17. He was running out of excuses to give his daughter, who asked him tearfully each night as they went to their "bedroom" - one step from a holding cell – when they were going home.

"_You know if it'd been your daughter in the Animus, you'd have done exactly what I did."_

Juhani didn't know why he hadn't told England about the dream he'd had while he'd apparently been asleep that night. Nor had he told the psychiatrist they'd insisted he see. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something that told him perhaps what he'd witnessed – incongruous as it might have been – that it wasn't a dream.

Had Subject 17 merely been screwing with his head? Was 17 trying to communicate with him in some other way? He'd heard stories of the artifacts and what they could do, but having been only recently recruited to the Templars' Inner Sanctum, he'd not had direct experience with the power of one until now.

His eyes remained on his daughter, playing some elaborate game with colored tiles. England had insisted he was free to leave when he was fully debriefed about the surveillance on 17 and his family, yet whenever he demanded to know when he would be sent home, he was told he'd have to wait for Rikkin's determination.

Juhani sighed. He knew well enough that Rikkin wouldn't let him leave until he told them about the dream. He wouldn't have even mentioned it; at the time it seemed trivial, but Rikkin and England had insisted it might be important. The strange compulsion not to tell them about it remained, and Juhani growled inwardly. Why couldn't he just tell them? It was a stupid dream, it meant nothing...unless it did.

The blonde Templar's eyes narrowed.

"_What if we helped you get your daughter back?"_

In the dream, his enemy had offered to help him. When he'd demanded an explanation, 17's answer had been cryptic, in the manner of Those Who Came Before.

"_No one is someone else. Not to me."_

What had that meant? No one is someone else. It didn't even make any sense, really...and why would the Assassin care anyway? Juhani turned the questions over in his mind again for the umpteeenth time.

Why couldn't he just tell his superiors what the Assassin had said to him?

_They'll think you betrayed them..._

He shook his head, arguing with that calm, rational voice. No they wouldn't, of course they wouldn't.

He was a Master Templar, dedicated to the Order and the creation of a New Order...no matter what it took.

_Even Ansa?_

Juhani's blood ran cold as he watched his daughter play, carefree and happy, laughing with the other children. She was innocent. Why had they brought her here? His eyes caught the blinking red light of the camera that watched the area. They were always watching him.

_They knew she was a way to control you. They don't trust you._

At that, Juhani's daughter noticed him watching and ran over, a happy smile on her face. He saw her mouth "Daddy!" behind the soundproof glass, and automatically, he smiled at her, waving.

Ansa was pulled back towards the play group by the teacher, whose fake smile didn't cover the suspicious glare in her eyes.

Juhani moved away from the window, and he saw his daughter's eyes fill with tears. "Daddy!" she mouthed silently behind the glass. "Daddy! Come back!"

The teacher tried to distract her with another toy, and she cried harder, reaching towards him.

_The baby screamed, failing against the strap that held him to the Animus, his hands reaching up as in supplication. _

Juhani remembered the helpless, terrified look in 17's eyes. It burned into his mind, that look. In that instant, he'd known exactly what 17 was feeling, and his admonishment to the lab techs had been partially to knock out 17 so he wouldn't have to see that look on his face.

He hadn't counted on the fact that when 17 was awake, his ancestors were able to manifest, and he'd watched the slaughter they'd inflicted from behind the lock down sealed lab door.

His daughter was still crying, and he shook himself. "She seems pretty upset." England's voice broke him out of his reverie.

Juhani swallowed.

"She...she's been upset when I'm not near, Laetitia. Being brought here scared her."

England's voice was quiet. "Well, I am sorry about that. Rikkin flew in last night and wants to talk to you, and once the debrief is done, you can go home."

Juhani smiled and waved at his daughter as he turned to leave with England, but he swore he could still hear the sound of her cries as the elevator doors closed behind them.

* * *

Rikkin did not look happy as they entered, and Laetitia had told Juhani in a quiet voice, "Just be truthful, Juhani. Rikkin's in a bad mood...seems 17 has been sending him annoying e-mails."

Juhani took a breath as they entered the imposing office Rikkin occupied when he was in New York.

Rikkin's tall form was faced away from them and without turning he said, "Juhani, sit down...Laetitia, you are dismissed."

Laetitia didn't argue as she moved back to the elevators, and Juhani seated himself. Rikkin remained standing and growled, "I got an e-mail from Subject 17 informing me I was a dick for kidnapping your daughter...and that I should let you both go home."

Despite himself, Juhani smirked a little. In his recent observations of 17, he could very well imagine the other man saying such a thing.

"Do you find that amusing?"

Juhani nodded. "As a matter of fact, it is pretty funny, from my point of view. My enemy sending a note to my boss telling him he's being a dick..."

Rikkin frowned.

"I don't find anything about this situation funny, Juhani. You got the wrong apartment, you let the targets escape and you find the fact the Assassin is taunting me amusing."

Juhani growled, his blue eyes flashing.

"I did not let them escape. And I'm still not completely sure it wasn't the right apartment...send me back and I'll go through the place with a microscope, if you want. Just let Ansa go home, if you won't release me."

Rikkin's eyes narrowed.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You still haven't told us anything about the dream you had while sleeping on the job, Juhani. I think you should be more concerned about yourself at this point than your daughter."

Juhani snarled. "My daughter being here doesn't have anything to do with the hunt for the Assassins. She's innocent! Let her go, and let me get back to hunting down 17 and 18."

Rikkin shook his head. "Tell me about your mysterious dream."

Juhani sighed.

"I dreamt I woke up in 17's apartment. He was making breakfast, asked me if I wanted some, and told me some Precursor-sounding mumbo jumbo about others not being someone else. I didn't understand any of it, but no one ever accused the Assassins of a mentally stable lot. Didn't one of his relatives go crazy in the Animus?"

Rikkin frowned. "You dreamt you ate breakfast with the Mentor of the Assassins in his apartment?"

Juhani nodded. Rikkin's gaze narrowed. "And perchance, was the apartment in your dream the same as the one you said he lived in?"

Juhani frowned, thinking about it. The details of the dream got fuzzy whenever he focused on the apartment. "I...I don't know. It might have been the same one..."

Rikkin stood back. "I think England had the right idea about bringing your daughter here." Juhani's blood froze. England had ordered his Ansa be kidnapped and brought here?

"Until you decide to tell us what really happened, I think it's best if you and your daughter remain our guests."

Juhani's eyes narrowed at the change of status. "Since when am I a guest?" He demanded, quietly.

Rikkin's voice was cold as he replied, "Until the day you prove you're not working with the Assassins." Juhani swallowed. "You...You can't mean that, Rikkin. I'm a Master Templar!"

Rikkin shook his head. "You're a Master Templar whose authority only extends as far as I let it, and right now it's not extending very far. In light of your status and the need to keep the rumor mill from striking up, I won't put you and your daughter in a holding cell. You may move freely around the campus, though you will be monitored at all times."

Juhani's tone was a little bitter as he said, "That's nothing new...they never did remove that tracking device you had Cross shoot me with."

Rikkin smiled, and Juhani suddenly wanted to punch him.

"We feared your daughter might be a weakness for you, and this entire scenario proves it out. It's really quite unfortunate, Juhani...you have great promise, but a Templar must be dedicated to the cause only...above all else, even family. I'd have thought when you took your oath you'd understand that."

Juhani was stunned speechless as Rikkin turned away from him again to stare out the window.

"You're dismissed, Juhani."

Juhani's steps were wooden as he went back to the elevator, and as the doors closed, he heard 17's voice from the dream.

"_What if we helped you...?"_

Well, he mused...what if they did?

**A/N: Okay...time to write has definitely been dwindling, but I'll try for a new chapter every couple of days or so this week.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**10/23/2013**

**18:00**

**Turin, New York, USA**

Everyone's nerves had been on edge since Desmond sent the initial Assassin teams to implement the first part of their joint plan with Minerva, and to relieve the tension Rebecca had suggested they amuse themselves. The entire expedition had turned into what Altair could only call a holiday, and the Assassins played various elaborate games, the rules of which Desmond had tried to explain to his ancient ancestor.

Altair had bowed out of the game, electing instead to hold Kyle and watch the others play, presumably so that he might learn by observation.

Altair sat on a rock, cradling Kyle as he watched the Assassins square off in teams, facing off over a line that had been drawn in the dirt, playing an elaborate game involving a strange, ovoid ball. He watched as Desmond crouched, his gaze locking onto Lucy's, and he saw the young Mentor grin playfully.

"Set...hike!"

Altair watched as the two teams rushed each other in what appeared to be an open brawl, and out of the mass of bodies he saw the ball flung towards Ezio, whose robes streamed behind him as he caught the ball, running hard for what Altair presumed was the goal marker.

Out of the mass of bodies rolled Desmond, and Altair recognized his fluid, deadly grace as the young Mentor gave chase to the Master Assassin, diving for the other man's knees. Ezio crashed over the goal line, the ball still clutched in his hands.

"And Ezio goes down at the goal line!" Rebecca crowed from the back of the van, her dark eyes bright with glee. "Good catch, Des!"

Desmond rolled to his feet, offering Ezio a hand. Ezio grunted, brushing dirt from his robes, and Altair could see sweat pouring from his face. "I am too old for this kind of sport..." he growled, and Desmond laughed.

"Sorry Ezio...after seeing you take down Leandros, that excuse just doesn't fly."

Altair chuckled, hearing Ezio grumble as they lined up once more. He tensed a little as the Precursor woman Desmond had rescued from Connor's Orb approached, her tone strangely diffident as she said, "May I sit with you Altair?"

Altair glanced at her and nodded.

Minerva seated herself gracefully beside him, and Altair became aware of her strange scent as they were silent a few minutes. The baby in his arms reached out one chubby hand to grasp the long braid that hung down the Precursor woman's back, and Minerva glanced down at the baby in shock.

Despite herself, she smiled when Kyle – having captured the object of his interest – immediately stuffed her braid into his mouth.

Both the ancient Assassin and the Precursor woman laughed at the expression on Kyle's face, and Altair saw deep sadness in her eyes as she watched the baby decide attempting to unravel her hair was more amusing than tasting it.

"He is quite an unusual child..." Altair said, softly. "My own sons were prone to crying a great deal at this age, but Kyle seems quite contented. He rarely cries without reason."

Minerva nodded, and her voice was soft as she said, "He reminds me a great deal of my own children. I was rare among my people to have birthed more than one, and I treasured them greatly."

Altair saw her face tighten with remembered loss. "We have all lost the ones we love, Minerva. Each of us, you, myself and Ezio, we are all past our time." His eyes cast back down to the baby in his hands, whose golden eyes were focused intently on his fingers twined in Minerva's hair.

"Kyle is the future...for both our races."

Minerva's gaze went to the baby, and gently, she stroked his soft cheek with her hand. The baby responded to the touch, making sucking motions, and Minerva's eyes filled with tears as his mouth suckled one of her fingers reflexively.

The sensation brought back a flood of memories, and Minerva didn't take her eyes off the baby as she said, "Do you think the cipher...ah...Desmond...would mind if I held his son a short while?"

Altair's gaze went distant a moment, and Desmond looked over at them in the midst of his game. Altair saw Ezio freeze and look at them also, and after a moment, Desmond nodded.

The ancient Assassin's motions were gentle as he handed the baby to Minerva.

The ancient woman looked down at the wide golden gaze, and she smiled, her gaze becoming a little distant. Altair's gaze narrowed as Kyle's eyes went wide. The moment passed, and Minerva's gaze returned to the present. Altair frowned.

"What did you do, just then?"

Minerva glanced at him, and her gaze was serious as she said softly, "I was right about his potential. His power is great, Altair. Even children of my kind were unable to receive thoughts until their minds had matured several years. Kyle heard me speak to him, and he has tried to speak to Desmond previously."

Altair stared at the baby. "Speak?"

Minerva shook her head. "In much the same way you and Ezio communicate with Desmond when you reside within him, so too does the little one attempt to communicate." She smiled a little. "Desmond is perhaps the most in tune with the boy, so he was the first to 'hear' him."

Desmond's voice broke into the conversation, his tone quiet. "What I got from him previously was more images than words, Minerva. Is that normal?"

Minerva nodded. "He does not yet equate words as you think of them with communication...he is an infant, and his world consists of tactile sensation, images and sound." She smiled. "At current, he is thinking about food. I believe he is hungry."

She handed the baby to Desmond, and Kyle looked disappointed as his grip was gently untangled from the Precursor woman's dark hair. Minerva actually smiled at the fretful pout on the baby's face, saying in a teasing tone, "Ah, little one. Of course, you may play with my hair anytime you wish."

Desmond handed Kyle to Lucy, who moved towards their tent for privacy to feed him. Minerva looked up at the form of the young Mentor.

"You must guard him well, Desmond. Should your enemies find him and turn him, what we saw of the Sun's rage will be as a mere candle to his."

Desmond's gaze was serious as he said, "I know. They won't get him, Minerva...no matter what I have to do to protect him." Minerva smiled a little sadly. "Out of all your line, you and your ancestors bear the same stoic, unyielding resolve that Adam himself bore when he led the rebellion against us. He was a charismatic man, Adam...his people looked up to him as a leader and a father." Her glance went towards their tent.

"But even Adam bowed to the will of Eve, his wife." She smiled at Desmond then, and her expression was almost sly. "I believe you humans have a saying...'behind every great man is his wife...'?"

Desmond grinned, winking one golden eye at them as Rebecca walked up. "I think I heard a saying like that once. It's totally not true, right Becca?"

Rebecca snorted, rolling her dark eyes at him.

"Hah, you wish Des. You men would've blown the place up eons ago if it weren't for us women ruling behind the scenes. Ask Shaun, you men are a bunch of horny, fight-prone idiots."

Desmond looked at the historian, whose hands were up in a gesture of warding.

"Oh no...you are not dragging me into this again Becca!"

Rebecca laughed wickedly. "Wuss."

Shaun frowned, his face flushed. "I am not a wuss just because I refuse to get drawn into a pointless argument with Desmond, his 800 year old ancestor and a woman who's probably 10,000 years old...uh..."

Minerva eyed him, one delicate brow raised.

"I...oh dear. Forgive me, Minerva, I didn't mean that as an insult..."

The Precursor woman frowned, tilting her head a little. "No, do go on...your estimation of my age is both inaccurate and highly amusing."

Altair and Desmond shared a glance, and then they laughed. Shaun looked at them, his expression a little panicked. "What on Earth are you two laughing about?"

Desmond grinned at his Syrian ancestor.

"I tease Altair about his age all the time...but at least I get his right, Shaun."

Shaun sighed. "Well, he's now got me...if...you don't mind, Minerva...how old are you, exactly?"

The ancient woman smiled. "Even among my people, millenia ago, it was considered rude to ask a woman about her age, young man."

Shaun put his head into his hands. "Can I just go help John and Michael with dinner and pretend we never had this conversation?"

Minerva pretended to think about it, and her eyes glinted wickedly as she said, "Of course. Do bear in mind however, that I was once worshiped as the Goddess of wisdom...and memories."

Shaun groaned to himself as he made his retreat, and Rebecca grinned broadly at Minerva. "You have gotta teach me how to do that sometime."

Minerva smiled, glancing at Desmond. "Such lessons must wait until the menfolk are about their business, Becca...and then I will be happy to teach you."

Rebecca looked gleefully after Shaun's retreating form. "I can't wait." Desmond and Altair eyed each other warily.

"You know...I think I heard Lucy calling me..." Desmond said, and Altair rose to his feet. "I too must...ah...attend to...an errand."

The men fled, and Minerva and Rebecca looked at each other and laughed.

* * *

Desmond ducked into the tent as Lucy finished feeding Kyle, and she looked at his bright gaze. "You seem happy, Des." Desmond grinned, shaking his head. "Minerva and Rebecca have poor Shaun running scared, Luce...I almost feel sorry for him, but then I remember I don't want Minerva to get the idea to teach you any of that..."

Lucy looked at him curiously. "Any of what, Des?"

Desmond swallowed, realizing his mistake. "Uh...nothing, really Luce..."

Lucy gave him a long, steady look, and he actually squirmed.

"Uh...I think we're out of wood. I'll...go get us some." Desmond ducked back out of the tent, and Lucy smiled to herself. Minerva had been right...this was a lot of fun.

Kyle gurgled at her, and she looked down. She swore his golden gaze was faintly disapproving, and she laughed, cuddling him close. "Don't worry kiddo, you'll understand when you're older."

* * *

Desmond brought back the last load of wood, setting it down close to the fire. His smart phone dinged with a sound he'd not heard before, and he realized he'd received a text message. Frowning, he fumbled his way through the menus and the message popped open.

"Were you serious about helping me?"

Desmond frowned, re-reading the message. The number was blocked, and Altair noticed the look on his face as he dropped a bundle of kindling near the fire.

"What is wrong, Desmond?"

Desmond was silent a moment, then said, "I think that Templar they sent after us at the apartment needs our help." Altair stared at him. "The man you used the power of the Apple to deter? Why would he ask you for help?"

Desmond's voice was quiet as he replied, "I offered it to him...when I used the Apple to read his mind...I offered to help him get his daughter back. I have a feeling his report back to the Templars didn't go well."

Altair stared at him, as shocked as Desmond had ever seen him.

"You offered help to our enemy? He kidnapped your son, and you. He left you both to be tortured, Desmond."

Desmond glanced at Ezio as he came up, his expression serious. "Old prejudices are hard to break...on both sides. If we're going to make any progress in ending this war...we have to start somewhere." Desmond sighed. "To be honest, I didn't actually expect him to take me up on it. He must really be desperate to ask and risk getting caught doing so."

The young Mentor straightened. "Everyone will be together at dinner...I'll explain then, and we can decide what to do." His gaze went soft as he said, "I know what it is to fear for the life of your child...and I don't wish that feeling on anyone...not even a mortal enemy."

**A/N: I felt like we needed a fluffy chapter...LM has been getting way serious and dark of late. ;) **


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**10/30/2013**

**02:00**

**Manhattan, New York, USA**

Juhani watched his daughter sleep, his eyes feeling gritty and tired. He still wondered if he'd done the right thing, sending the message to the cell number he'd traced from Desmond. He frowned. When had he started thinking of 17 as 'Desmond'?

_When you asked him for help, idiot._

The Finnish Templar growled. He still wasn't sure his message hadn't been traced, or indeed if the Assassin leader had even gotten it. He sighed as Ansa turned over in her sleep, her face scrunching into an unhappy expression. He didn't blame her for having bad dreams. Since he'd sent the text message, he'd been unable to sleep from anxiety, which was partially the reason he was awake now.

Juhani sighed, putting his head in his hands. If he kept circling back to that line of thought, he'd drive himself crazy. There was nothing to be done now but wait – wait for Desmond to send a response, or wait for Rikkin to send him back to the interrogator he'd started using in lieu of the pretense of civility.

He and Ansa had been confined to the tiny cell for five days now, and he watched as Ansa grew quieter and quieter, her blue eyes now reflecting worry and sadness he knew was mirrored in his own. She'd stopped asking to go home. He'd had to force her to eat the bland food they were given, and she spent a great deal of time now asleep.

He couldn't offer an explanation when she'd asked him why they couldn't go play anymore, or why he had new "owies" – the work of the interrogator, who'd apparently been ordered to use force to get the answers Rikkin thought he was withholding.

Juhani got up, pacing the tiny cell, watching the blink of the red light that indicated as always he was being watched. He straightened against a new bruise on his side, hissing a little in pain as he probed the spot with his fingers. He didn't think the rib was broken, but it was definitely bruised.

His training had prepared him for any kind of physical torture, and pain meant little to him. But as he watched his daughter toss restlessly in her sleep, her tiny face marred by unhappiness, he felt his throat clench, and tears burned in his eyes. He would gladly suffer days of any torture versus being forced to watch his daughter's spirit be broken.

Juhani closed his eyes, turning away from the camera that watched them, not wanting them to see the hot tears slide down his scarred cheeks. It was as his back was turned that the blinking red eye of the camera stopped.

He was so buried in his own misery that he didn't hear the slight noise outside the cell door at first, but his body automatically went into a defensive stance as it slid open, revealing a tall figure wrapped in dark gear, a black hood shadowing his face. Juhani stared at the gleaming golden gaze that stared from under the hood – the eyes of a predator in the dark.

Juhani blinked stupidly at Desmond, whose expression softened as he noted the tears that still trailed down the other man's face.

"Sorry I'm late..." he said, quietly. Juhani blinked, remembering himself long enough to wipe his eyes hastily. "What..." Juhani began, and then he noticed the camera's light was off. "What...are you doing here?"

Desmond tilted his head a little at the other man. "You sent a message asking for help." Juhani frowned as Ansa stirred. "I...I did but...I wasn't expecting you to...show up...here."

He saw Desmond's scarred lips quirk in a smile.

"Well...you look like you're both in need of rescuing...so unless you want to stay here, we've got 8 minutes to get the hell out of Dodge."

"7, sir." Juhani's gaze narrowed as the Assassin called John came up beside the young Mentor, eyeing him warily. Juhani swallowed as Ansa's voice floated over to them. "Daddy, who are those scary men?"

He turned to Ansa, scooping her into his arms. "These...these men are here to...help us, Ansa. You must be very quiet now, like we practiced. These men are going to take us away from here."

Juhani held his daughter close as Desmond and John closed ranks around him. They moved swiftly through the darkened building, and Juhani realized they'd cut power to the floor after his cell had been opened.

They reached a shattered window, and Juhani tensed. Ansa clung to him, terrified as he looked down. Lines coiled down the side of the building towards the street below. Silently, Desmond wrapped Juhani and Ansa securely in a harness, and Juhani hissed in pain as it tightened over his ribcage.

Desmond stopped instantly, his gaze narrowing.

"Does that hurt you?"

Juhani grunted. "It's nothing." Desmond eyed him sternly as they shrugged on their own harnesses.

"We'll have someone treat that when we get down...along with whatever else their interrogator did to you."

Desmond looked angry, and Juhani frowned even as they began to rappel down the side of the building. It was almost as if the Assassin cared about him. His expression tightened as they made their way down the building. Ansa clung to him, terrified, utterly silent.

They reached ground level, Desmond and John expertly untangling their harnesses, and Juhani grimaced as the pressure on his bruised ribs was abruptly released. His chest throbbed with pain, and his expression tightened. Ansa dared to look up and around for a moment before putting her head back on his shoulder. "Daddy..." she whispered. "I'm scared."

Juhani's voice was as reassuring as he could make it as he said, "It's alright now, Ansa...we're on the ground again."

Desmond and John led the way to a non-descript van, and Juhani leapt in without a word, seeing several other Assassins he hadn't seen turn to stare at him, some gazes shocked, others distrustful. He seated himself on the bench, taking care to buckle Ansa in securely as the John pulled the doors shut and the van rumbled to life.

Desmond nodded at a brunette Assassin, who looked at Juhani. "I'm gonna fry the tracking device they put in you. It might hurt a little, since I have to send the charge through your skin. Are you okay with that?"

Juhani swallowed.

"Yeah. I'm okay with it. One minute."

He looked at Ansa and spoke in Finnish, "This woman needs to give Daddy a special shot...you remember having shots when you went to the doctor's, before?" Ansa nodded, her eyes wide. "Shots hurt, Daddy." Juhani nodded. "Shots only hurt a moment, Ansa...and this shot the woman is going to give Daddy will help him. You must be quiet and still until it's over, alright?"

Ansa nodded, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. "Daddy, you can hold my hand."

Juhani smiled a little, then looked back at Rebecca, then nodded.

"Do it."

Rebecca nodded, running a scanner over his arm. "Looks like it didn't migrate much. That's good. Okay..." She pressed a few buttons on the scanner. "I've got its frequency...hold still."

Juhani forced himself to relax as Rebecca touched a sequence of buttons on the device, and a spark that felt like a strong static shock went through his arm.

He jumped a little, reflexively, and Ansa's hand squeezed his reassuringly. "It's okay, Daddy...don't cry." Her hand petted his, and he saw Desmond's lips quirk in a smile at her attempts to comfort him.

His arm ached as Rebecca read the device again, looking satisfied. "It's no longer transmitting. We can't exactly dig the chip out of your arm, but they won't be able to use it to track you anymore."

Juhani nodded, saying lowly, "Thank you." Rebecca nodded. "No problem. I'm Rebecca, but everyone calls me Becca."

Juhani sighed. "Juhani Otso Berg...Juhani will do, and this is Ansa, my daughter."

Ansa smiled shyly at the dark-haired woman, who crouched to be eye-level with the little girl. "Hi, Ansa, I'm Becca." Ansa didn't understand Rebecca's sentence, instead wrapping the Assassin woman in a hug.

"Thank you for helping us, nice lady..." she said, and Juhani translated quietly. Rebecca smiled, returning the hug. "You're very welcome."

**A/N: Originally this chapter was longer, but I've split it, so I'll be posting at least two when this segment of the story is done.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**10/30/2013**

**08:00**

**Turin, New York, USA**

Juhani was roused from his sleep as the van slowed, driving over rough terrain. He blinked into the sunlight that now streamed into the van, which was now driving through what appeared to be thick forest. Ansa slept, completely dead to the world, in his lap. The Assassins hadn't moved from their places, and he saw Desmond glance at him, his golden gaze seeming to look through the other man. Juhani found it profoundly disturbing.

"I...I fell asleep?"

Desmond nodded. "You looked like you needed it."

Juhani looked around. "Where are we?"

Desmond's voice was quiet. "Someplace safe."

The van stopped, and Ansa whined sleepily as Juhani shook her. "Ansa, you need to get up now." He saw Desmond shake his head. "Don't wake her." Juhani blinked as Lucy Stillman – no, her name was Miles now, wasn't it? - stepped up into the van. "If you don't mind, I'll take her to a tent to sleep."

Juhani swallowed, reluctant to let her leave his sight, and he saw Lucy's expression soften a little. "If it will make you feel better, you can come and see where I put her."

Juhani glanced at Desmond, who nodded a little as he stood up, following Lucy's slim form to a tent in the row setup outside the entrance of a natural cave.

Lucy laid Ansa gently on a pile of sleeping bags inside, smiling at the sleepy blue gaze. "Here. He's been feeling lonely, and I think he'd love to sleep with you..." She handed the little girl a stuffed bear, and Ansa squeezed the bear tightly, as she went back to sleep.

Juhani backed out of the tent with Lucy as a soft step approached, and he turned and took an inadvertent step back as Altair eyed him. In the ancient Assassin's arms was Desmond's son, whom he handed to Lucy, his golden gaze – exactly like Desmond's, but older and wiser – never left the blonde Templar's face.

Juhani couldn't help but stare at the other man. He could smell him, a mix of sandalwood and worn leather, hear the sound of his breathing and see the heavy robes the other man wore shift with his movement. "You...You're really..." Juhani's hand reached out to touch the ancient Assassin and stopped, closing into an uncertain fist.

To the Templar's surprise, Altair's hand took his. The other man's hand was wrinkled and calloused from years of wielding a blade, his skin warm and tanned from the desert sun, the slenderness of it belying a strength within...a strength attributable to a much younger man.

Juhani stared as Altair examined his hand, uncurling the fist gently and tracing his fingers along the other man's palm, speaking quietly in heavily accented English. "It seems we are all accustomed to fighting, Templar. Your hand bears the marks of many years of training."

Altair's gaze went to his, and Juhani found himself unable to look away as the other man's eyes bored into his soul, like Desmond's had in the van. "Your mind does not bear the same marks of training as your hands, Templar. You are recently brought to their fold, I think."

Juhani swallowed, unsure of what to say in response. He saw Altair tense, the golden gaze swinging sharply to Desmond's tall form, still clad in the black Assassin gear, now apparently talking with the man Juhani recognized as the former Mentor of the Assassins, William Miles...Desmond's father.

"You did _what_?!"

Juhani saw the older man's gray gaze settle on him, astonished and enraged. Before he could move or say anything, William's fist lashed out, not at him, but at Desmond.

William's vicious uppercut knocked Desmond prone, and the entire camp froze in horror as William continued to beat his son, who made no sound to indicate pain, curled protectively onto his side, his arms reflexively blocking access to his head.

"Desmond!" Juhani heard Lucy cry in horror, and in the next instant he was moving, his hand catching the next blow meant for Desmond, twisting the arm behind the older man's back. "Stop!"

William wrenched free of his grip, turning on the Templar with a snarl before his hands were firmly taken from either side by Altair and another ancient Assassin Juhani didn't recognize.

Despite himself, Juhani knelt next to Desmond's prone form, and he touched the other man's arm.

"You alright?"

Desmond uncurled, spitting blood onto the ground as he eyed the angry, tensed form of his father, held firmly in the grip of his ancestors. Juhani helped the young Mentor to his feet and eyed him. "Why didn't you defend yourself?" He demanded quietly, and Desmond shook his head, his voice a harsh whisper.

"I didn't want to kill him."

Juhani frowned, nodding once.

Desmond looked sternly at his father, his voice cold as he said, "I know you don't agree with me having brought Juhani here, Dad, but what's done is done."

William's voice was harsh as he said, "You've doomed us all, Desmond, with this foolish hope the Assassins and the Templars can be allies! Don't you see what this is? It's Daniel Cross all over again!"

William stared accusingly at Juhani.

"We made a mistake in trusting him, and he killed the Mentor before me! He'll wait for his chance, and then his blade will slip into your back, Desmond!"

Juhani's voice was a low growl as he responded, "I owe Desmond my life and my daughter's. I didn't ask him to rescue me, that is true, but if he hadn't, Rikkin and England would have eventually gotten tired of having me tortured and God knows what would have happened to Ansa."

William laughed, his laughter laced with scorn.

"You expect me to believe you'd give up being part of the Inner Sanctum of the Templars for your daughter?"

Juhani's gaze narrowed, and he snarled.

"Most parents would gladly give their lives for their children. You appear to be a notable example of the opposite. Tell me, did you always beat your son when he didn't do what you wanted?"

William's gaze narrowed, and Juhani spat, "I know your type very well, old man. I might be your enemy, Assassin, but only a coward beats a child!"

Juhani paused as a hand took his shoulder firmly, and he glanced over at Desmond's golden gaze. The other man's expression was resolute, and Juhani growled as Desmond nodded at the ancient Assassins, who released their hold on William.

William eyed Juhani and snarled, "I've got my eye on you, Templar. When you slip up, I'll be there with a knife."

The former Mentor stalked off towards the edge of the woods, muttering curses.

Desmond sighed heavily beside him, one hand massaging his jaw. "That could have gone a lot better."

Juhani snorted. "I doubt it."

* * *

Desmond made his way back to their tent, stripping off his gear. Lucy's expression was tight as she ran her hand gently over the bruises beginning to appear under Desmond's tanned skin. Kyle napped on his sleeping bag, his chubby face content as he sucked on a thumb.

"Your Dad really hit you hard, Des."

Desmond grunted. "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before, Luce." Lucy watched him carefully as he dressed, then said quietly, "Why didn't you defend yourself? You could have stopped your Dad in an instant." Desmond nodded, his gaze glinting in the dim light that filtered through the closed flap of their tent.

"I wanted to see how he would react." Desmond ran his tongue over his aching teeth. "I wasn't expecting Dad to lose it like that, but it turned out to be a good test." Lucy's gaze narrowed. "You took a beating from your Dad to see if that Templar would help you? What if he hadn't?"

Desmond was quiet a moment, then said, "I knew he would." Lucy sat beside him as he pulled on his usual T-shirt and hoodie, covering the silver of Kyle's dog tags.

"I gotta hear this."

Desmond sighed, and his hands took hers as he spoke softly.

"When I opened the door to his cell, he was crying, Luce." Lucy's brow rose. "He doesn't seem the type to cry, Des." Desmond nodded. "Becca'd been watching him on the camera feed for awhile, and when I got up there..." He looked hesitant, then said, "I could _feel_ his despair, Luce. You remember I touched his mind before."

Lucy nodded silently, and Desmond continued.

"He's uncertain about what he did, calling us for help. We got him out before they had time to break him, but Becca managed to download the interrogator's instructions from Rikkin...they were going to hurt him every day until he talked or died. It didn't matter to them if he'd actually betrayed the Order or not...all that mattered was the perception that he had." Lucy's voice was very quiet, and her eyes went in the direction of the tent the Templar's daughter slept in.

"And the little girl?"

Desmond shook his head. "There's no mention of her. At the very least, she'd have been orphaned, at the worst, they'd have killed her too."

Lucy was quiet a moment, then said, "I hope you're right about him, Des." Desmond sighed. "I hope so too, Luce."

**A/N: Split it again...geez, at this point I oughta just say I'll keep posting till this particular bit quits chewing on me**.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**10/30/2013**

**11:00**

**Manhattan, New York, USA**

England watched as the color rose in Rikkin's face, but his voice was calm as he said, "What do you mean, Juhani's escaped?"

England cleared her throat nervously.

"We...we don't have any records. There's a blackout between 2 AM and 2:08 AM...but we presume that Juhani had help. My guess is the Assassins. There was a window on the outer perimeter shattered, and Juhani wouldn't have been able to climb down himself while holding his daughter after his...discussions...with our interviewers yesterday."

Rikkin's expression became unreadable, and he said, "So he was working with the Assassins." England eyed him, and he saw color rise in her face.

"Juhani insisted the entire time he'd never worked with the Assassins, and the interviewer was very...persuasive. I think that maybe he was telling the truth." Rikkin frowned.

"It doesn't matter if he was, Laetitia. We tested his faith and found him wanting. Had he been a true Templar, he would have killed the Assassins sent there and brought us their heads, not gone with them."

Laetitia went very quiet, "It's possible he didn't go willingly, Alan."

Rikkin shook his head. "The techs report no sign of any struggle, and from the number of ropes the Assassins only sent two men...two men could not have gotten out an unconscious Juhani and his daughter in that short time frame if they had to carry him."

Laetitia sighed, going silent. She dared not voice the thoughts that circled in her head now, and waited anxiously before Rikkin spoke again.

"It seems as if I'll have to take a more direct hand in this. You're dismissed, Laetitia."

England ignored the sting of Rikkin's abrupt dismissal, glad to be out of his presence, and as the door closed behind her, the insidious thoughts she dared not say hissed in her mind, _"You drove Juhani to this...what else could he do, to save his daughter? This is your fault."_

* * *

Desmond looked up from the computer screen as a small hand tugged on his hoodie. His eyes settled on the tear-stained face of Juhani's daughter, Ansa. She babbled something in Finnish, and Desmond cocked his head. Her hand tugged on his hoodie again, and he understood that. He rose to his feet, following the little girl to the edge of the forest.

Among the trees, he saw the bent form of the big Templar, his arms clasped protectively over his chest. He was shaking and pale, and Desmond saw vomit staining the forest floor at his feet.

"Juhani?" he asked, and the Templar responded by turning away, his chest heaving. Desmond's hand touched the other man's shoulder.

"Juhani? What hurts?"

The blonde Templar shuddered. "My...my stomach. It feels like someone's tearing at it." Desmond knelt near Ansa, who looked frightened. "Ansa...my name is Desmond." The little girl's eyes focused on his, and he said, "Can you go get my wife, her name is Lucy. Tell Lucy to bring Rebecca."

Juhani translated, his voice shaking, and the little girl nodded, glancing back at him once before she raced off once more.

A few minutes later, Lucy and Rebecca ran over to them, and in Lucy's hand was a first-aid kit. Juhani blinked at Rebecca, and the question in his ice-blue eyes was interrupted by another bout of vomiting.

"What happened to him?" Lucy said, her tone businesslike. Desmond explained quietly, then said, "I should have thought of it sooner...he was tortured yesterday Luce...he says they beat him, but he doesn't remember all of it. After he ate breakfast, he started upchucking. Says his stomach hurts."

Lucy approached the blonde man, taking his vitals, and Juhani took the hint, moving away to sit on a nearby rock, his head in his hands. Desmond whispered instructions to Rebecca, who nodded, smiling at Ansa. "Ansa, Miss Lucy is going to help your Daddy...while she does that, you wanna come see a cool game I wrote?"

Ansa looked back at Juhani as he translated, and she went with the brunette Assassin reluctantly.

"Come on, Juhani...I know it hurts, but we've got to get you someplace we can take a look at you."

The big Templar nodded silently, his face pale.

They got him into the back of the van, setting up a camp cot as a makeshift stretcher. Lucy prudently closed the doors of the van. "Take off your shirt, Juhani, I need to get a look at you."

Juhani didn't argue as he stripped off his shirt slowly, and Lucy's eyes went wide. The blonde Templar was heavily built, his broad torso criss-crossed with angry red stripes. Significant bruising marred one side of his ribcage, and Lucy shuddered at how much force it must have taken to cause that wound.

Desmond's hands helped ease the big man onto the cot, and Lucy's fingers gently probed his wounds.

The blonde Templar hissed as her hands moved over the bruising, and he writhed as her hands pressed under his ribcage against the taut abdomen. The skin was tight and swollen under his ribs, and Lucy's expression went hard.

She filled a needle from the first aid kit, injecting the big man as gently as she could. Juhani showed no sign he cared, his breathing ragged from pain. Lucy pulled Desmond aside, whispering, "He's hurt pretty bad, Des. We need to get him to a hospital. He's bleeding internally. He has to have surgery to stop it or he'll die. I gave him some painkillers, but we don't have the equipment to treat him here."

Desmond frowned. "How long does he have?"

Lucy frowned. "I have some drugs that will help slow the bleeding, and I might be able to drain some of it, but if we take him to a hospital, what on Earth are we going to tell them? It's not like we can explain his wounds."

Desmond's gaze went resolute as Juhani groaned softly from between clenched teeth.

"I suppose...this is a bad time to tell you...I don't have...a visa."

Desmond grinned tightly at the other man. "We'll figure something out."

To Lucy he said, "Get Harlan over here."

* * *

Harlan's expression was hard as Desmond finished explaining, and he said gruffly, "You'll forgive me Mentor, if I'd rather he died. That Templar you're so intent on saving killed an entire team of Assassins, including my own Mentor, Maestranzi. Maestranzi was in a goddamn wheelchair, sir...and that bastard could have cared less. You know if you were in his shoes, he'd let you die. Why are you going to so much trouble to help him?"

Desmond's golden gaze was bright as he eyed the older Assassin. "Juhani's not innocent, Harlan, that much is true, but I will not have anyone die in agony if I can do anything to prevent it." He pulled the other man aside and said, "As much as you hate to hear it, we need his help."

Harlan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mentor. I'm with your Dad on this one...better he dies. If you're concerned about him suffering, I can make it quick." Desmond's expression went stony, and he stepped back.

"No. I'm sorry you disagree with me, Harlan. I know that you and my Dad hate the Templars...and to be honest, I'm not overly fond of them myself...but this cycle of hate has to stop. It has to stop, if we're all going to survive."

Harlan growled. "We could survive if we just killed them all, sir. No Templars, no conflict."

Desmond straightened, his eyes flashing angrily. "Harlan, you realize what you just suggested is the definition of genocide? The Templars are still _people_."

Harlan's expression went stony.

"Not to me. And when that Templar finally betrays you, Desmond...you'll understand my view better."

Desmond's voice was a low growl.

"No...I don't think I will. I've seen death, Harlan...I've caused it. I've prevented it...and out of those three things, only the third didn't make me feel lower than dirt after I'd done it."

Lucy's voice came from inside the van. "We've got to go, Des! I've got Kyle in his car seat!"

Desmond glanced back once at Harlan, then ran for the van. Harlan watched as the van tore off towards the city, and William's voice came from beside him. "Now you see what I told you, old friend...Desmond's completely in their thrall. I made a mistake turning the mantle over to him."

Harlan grunted. "What do you want me to do?" William sighed heavily. "Call Gavin...we'll gather up the others and head to Philadelphia."

Harlan nodded. "What about the Templar's kid?"

William frowned. "She'll come with us, for now. Get the camp packed up." Harlan nodded. "Yes, Mentor."

* * *

William strode back to camp, and Shaun and Rebecca looked up as he clapped his hands. "Get the camp packed up! We're headed to Philly." Shaun looked around. "Where's Desmond?" William frowned. "Desmond is off taking care of...some business and said he'll meet us there."

Minerva's voice came from the tents.

"You are not telling the truth."

Rebecca froze in the act of packing up her laptop. Ansa paid no heed, avidly watching a cartoon on another computer, her ears covered by headphones.

"What do you mean, Minerva?" she demanded, and William growled. He'd forgotten about the Precursor woman's unique abilities.

Before William could think of an excuse, Minerva dropped silently to the ground, and Harlan stared grimly at Rebecca. "You heard the Mentor, Becca. Pack up and make ready to go. Anyone else who protests will join Minerva."

Rebecca's voice was very quiet as she said, "What are you doing, William?"

William snarled. "I'm fixing a mistake, Rebecca. Now get moving."

Rebecca's hand casually pushed something off the table as she began to pack up the computers once more, and Shaun stared at her silently before he followed John and Michael to the packing crates.

**A/N: Something to keep in mind about William...prejudice makes people do stupid things. **


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**10/30/2013**

**22:05**

**Bronx, New York, USA**

Desmond and Lucy waited impatiently in the hospital room as Juhani was wheeled in, followed by Dr. Lyndon, who looked exhausted. She checked the big Templar's vitals, then motioned them out into the hallway.

Her gaze was stern as she looked at Desmond.

"When you brought him here, you promised me answers, Desmond. I pulled in a lot of favors to get him operated on without too many questions, and I could lose my license if I'm caught."

She looked around, and said lowly, "He almost died on the operating table, and it's frankly a miracle he survived at all. What on Earth happened to him, and who is he? Is this related to the same people who did this to you a month or so ago?"

Desmond's expression went tight.

"Actually, he's one of the people who did this to me...indirectly."

Dr. Lyndon's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"If he did that to you, why in Heaven's name are you helping him?"

Desmond frowned. "It's a long story...and I'll have lots of time to explain. You're going to come with us, once he's stable enough to be moved."

Dr. Lyndon's eyes narrowed, and she hissed, "Moved? Desmond, the only thing holding his insides together right now is the stitches the surgeon put in! He was beaten so hard his intestines ruptured!"

Desmond's expression went stony. "I know that. If there's any way we can move him, we've got to do it. We can't leave him here, if the ones who did that to him find him, they'll kill him, and I need his help."

Dr. Lyndon shook her head.

"He can't be moved, Desmond. It's risky."

From inside the room, they heard Juhani moan.

They rushed into the room, and Juhani's eyes focused blearily on Desmond. "Ansa..." he mumbled, clearly still suffering from the effects of anesthesia. _"__Missä on __Ansa...?"_

Dr. Lyndon stared at him. "What language is he speaking, and who is Ansa?" Desmond's voice was tight as he said, "Finnish, and Ansa is his daughter."

Desmond's hand took the other man's, and he spoke slowly in English. "Ansa's okay, Juhani. She's at the camp with Rebecca, remember?"

Juhani's gaze tried to focus on him once more, and Desmond saw the other man's eyes droop shut. They watched him for a moment, and then Desmond's phone dinged with a text indicator. Frowning, he opened the phone.

"ur dad moved camp to philly. Har knocked out min. every1 here, inc ans. Pls hurry. - R"

Lucy watched Desmond's expression freeze in horror. "What's wrong?" She and Lyndon demanded at the same time.

Desmond's voice was shocked as he said, "My Dad...he and Harlan forced the others to leave camp after we left." His golden gaze went to Lucy's, and she saw the anger mixed with sadness in his gaze.

"He's trying to take back control of the Order."

* * *

Rikkin frowned at the latest reports from the Templar teams. Juhani's tracking device had gone silent a few blocks from the building, so he presumed the Assassins had devised a way to disable it. He didn't have anymore trained agents...none who'd been in the field for years, anyway.

His gaze went to the camera feed from outside his door. Laetitia's face bore a guilty expression, and he suspected strongly she was suffering from a case of guilt. He frowned. He wasn't a man to leave himself without options.

Rikkin stood up. It looked as if he were going to be forced to use his trump card after all, since he couldn't seemingly get reliable agents. He went to a closet in the office, pulling out a long case and snapping it open, revealing the golden gleam of the Papal Staff.

He took the staff in his hand, feeling the power thrum through it. Though it lacked an Apple of Eden to amplify, he had found through experimentation that if he concentrated hard enough, he could channel some of his own abilities through it.

Rikkin smiled as he gaze gleamed in the darkness. He actually looked forward to meeting Desmond...and then they would see who the true master of the Pieces of Eden was.

* * *

Rebecca busied herself with setting up the computer equipment. Ansa was asleep on a cot nearby, and Shaun's voice whispered to her from across the room.

"Becca?"

Rebecca looked over at the historian. "Yeah, Shaun?" The historian sighed. "It's all gone to hell, hasn't it? Desmond doesn't know where we are, and William's gone 'round the bloody bend." The historian frowned. "I gotta say though, I don't agree with Desmond helping that Templar either. Not sure why he got so hung up on the guy."

Rebecca shook her head. "Desmond helped Juhani because Juhani asked him too, Shaun. Don't you get it? Desmond helps people because he cares about people." Shaun snorted. "He cares about other people, but what about us? He must've known this would happen, bringing that Templar back to camp. Do you think he's been turned?"

Rebecca snarled, suddenly angry.

"Desmond is not in league with the Templars!" Shaun made a quieting motion. "Calm down, or Harlan might hear you!" Rebecca growled, plugging in a component harder than was necessary.

"I don't care what you or William say, Shaun...I trust Desmond. No matter how strange his motivations might seem, he's a good guy who'd die for any of us. He saved the damn world last year and almost died a few times doing it!"

Shaun sighed. "I don't want to argue, Becca...I just...I'm not sure what we're doing anymore. We're Assassins, aren't we? Helping Templars...collecting Pieces of Eden for secret projects...reminds me a lot of what I used to dig out of Abstergo's computers."

Rebecca sighed.

"Desmond has his reasons, Shaun. He really believes the only way we're going to have peace is if we work together...and as crazy as it sounds, I think he's right. We've been fighting the Templars for centuries, Shaun, and what has it gotten us? We cut off one head, and three more pop up. It's an unwinnable war, Shaun...so many people died...so many people were hurt, and for what? For nothing, because for everyone one of them that dies, there are 30 more lined up to take their place...and our numbers just dwindle and dwindle. I'm tired of going to funerals, Shaun."

Rebecca closed her eyes. "If not having to go to anymore funerals means working with a Templar...even one like Juhani, then I'll do it."

Shaun was silent, and Rebecca went back to setting up the computers.

* * *

Minerva's voice was calm as she watched William pace around the conference room. "Desmond will be displeased with what you have done."

William snarled. "Shut up! If you really stop to think about it, this is all your fault!"

Minerva's gaze narrowed. "My fault? How is your decision to stage a coup my fault?"

William looked at her, his tone scathing as he replied, "You really don't know? Don't play dumb, Minerva. You know as well as I do your people were the masters of manipulation. Desmond absorbed those cursed Apples, and now you're using them to control him, aren't you?"

To his shock, Minerva laughed.

"You are sorely misguided if you believe I am capable of forcing the cipher to do anything against his wishes. Did not what Juno attempted in the Vault in Rome teach you anything?"

William's gaze narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Desmond was too powerful to be controlled by force alone – even before he absorbed the two Apples." She smiled grimly. "Juno did her work too well, in breeding him to be the strongest in his line, she also made him too strong for her to control."

William stared at her. "Bred him?"

Minerva sighed a long-suffering sort of sigh. "Open your eyes to the possibilities beyond your own stilted view of good and evil, William Miles. The world is not merely your Assassins versus the Templars...it never has been. As a matter of fact, originally I sought to bring your disparate sides together...on both sides of your pointless little war are individuals with the power to protect the world."

William stared at the Precursor woman incredulously. "You mean there are Templars like Desmond? With your DNA?"

Minerva gave him a frustrated look. "Why do you think Desmond was drawn so strongly to help the one called Juhani? Why do you think the Templars have always sought the Pieces of Eden for their power? There are some few among them who can use them, just as Desmond can...though not as efficiently. You yourself bear enough of our essence to use at least one Piece effectively, were there one present."

William frowned.

"Do you know who among them can use the Pieces of Eden?"

Minerva shrugged. "My knowledge is limited to the senses contained within this body, now. Most of the Temples that remained were powered down completely by Desmond's use of the defense grid. In order for me to have the ability to track those talented individuals once again, new Temples would need to be erected."

William stared. "Track individuals...again? You mean you did before?" Minerva gave him another long-suffering look. "What in the name of the great dark beyond do you think I spent all those millenia doing? My people do not have amusements, William Miles. We have our great work, the work that turns the wheel of the universe...and you and your family are at the epicenter of our work for this world."

William went silent, and Minerva's voice was quiet. "We shall see if your clumsy attempt at a power grab deters the cipher from his work...should you succeed, you may well have doomed everyone on your world to another catastrophe in the future."

Willam's voice was cold as the door opened to admit Harlan.

"Rebecca has all the equipment setup, Mentor." William nodded. "Good. Take Minerva back to the room with the others."

Harlan saluted, and Minerva moved gracefully ahead of the other man. The room went silent as they left, and William stared morosely out over the city.

**A/N: Something that I think needs clarifying...Willam's not evil or a traitor. He still cares about Desmond and the Assassins, but he's letting his hate for the Templars override his good sense. **

**Minerva's speech to him in this chapter is something of a verbal bitch-slap, because she and Rebecca realize that while not everyone would agree with Desmond working with the Templars, they understand that what he's doing hasn't been tried before...turning the other cheek. **

**Later we'll come to Desmond rebuilding the team and getting to Rikkin. Don't worry, Darth Nova 66, he'll get his. I haven't forgotten. There's some more stuff that has to happen first, so stayed tuned!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**11/2/2013**

**10:00**

**Bronx, New York, USA**

Juhani became aware of himself again slowly, finally shaking off the effects of the anesthesia. He blinked into bright sunlight that streamed in from the windows of his hospital room. His focus was immediately drawn to the tall form that stood outlined by the sunlight, his gaze turned away from the bed. Desmond's posture was tense, and he spoke without turning around.

"How do you feel?"

Juhani blinked, looking around.

"Well, I've definitely been better...but since I don't remember the last 24 hours, I'm guessing I came close to dying." Desmond's voice was quiet. "Try the last 72. It's taken a lot of effort to keep your bosses' goons from finding you."

Juhani was silent a moment, and then he looked around, seeing Lucy calmly nursing Kyle in a chair, modestly covered with a blanket.

"Where's Ansa?"

The big Templar moved a little too quickly and immediately froze as he pulled on the stitches that ran up one side of his abdomen.

"She's safe Juhani, though we've got a bit of a problem."

Juhani's icy gaze narrowed. "Judging from the look on your face, it seems like a big problem."

Desmond nodded.

"My Dad staged a coup after we left camp. I got a message from Becca saying he'd moved them to Philadelphia. We have a camp there that hasn't been used since Cross, but I imagine there's various hideouts in the city itself."

Juhani was silent a long moment, and to Desmond's surprise, he said, "I'm...sorry." The blonde Templar shook his head, and said, "You put your own family at risk for me." Juhani looked at Desmond, his icy gaze strangely vulnerable.

"Why would you do that? I'm a Templar...I'm your enemy. No one would have blamed you had you let us both die...and yet here you are, causing a rift amongst your own kind to help me."

Desmond's voice was quiet as he responded, "I would have blamed myself, Juhani. Part of our Creed is to stay our blade from an innocent, and your daughter is innocent, even if you aren't."

The young Mentor sighed heavily.

"The rift would have happened eventually, Juhani. My father never totally bought into what I was trying to do...not even after what happened in December." Desmond's golden gaze was serious as he said, "I saved the world that day, Juhani, and I knew when I did it the world wouldn't be the same afterwards."

Juhani was silent a moment. "So because the world is different...you are now willing to help a Templar when it turns your own father against you?"

Desmond sighed. "When I saved the world, Juhani, I was given a glimpse of how things could be. In one vision, the world was destroyed...in another, the world was peaceful." His gaze settled on Juhani's. "In order for the one we want to occur, the Templars and the Assassins must work together. Only together, working in the light, can we save the world for good. We are the only ones with the power."

Juhani nodded. "The Pieces of Eden..."

Desmond shook his head.

"No. The Pieces of Eden are tools, Juhani...a tool is nothing without someone to use it. We Assassins and you Templars are the users The Ones Who Came Before intended. Thanks to the interference of one of them, we wound up fighting over the hammer instead of using it to put in the nails to keep the world spinning...and what happened in December is a result of that."

Juhani was silent, and Desmond chuckled a little, shaking his head.

"You might say we all fucked up because none of us could see the bigger picture. The world almost paid the price...and I don't want that to happen again. I want there to be a world left for my son and your daughter to grow up in."

Desmond watched the blonde Templar's expression become thoughtful. Desmond waited, and Juhani's voice was quiet as he said, "Alright, Desmond. What do I need to do?"

* * *

Dr. Lyndon's face was set in an expression of extreme disapproval as Desmond helped Juhani ease into a wheelchair. "I want you to know that as your doctor I disagree with you standing under your own power, much less being discharged, Mr. Berg."

Juhani grinned tightly, his face drawn with pain.

"No offense intended, Dr. Lyndon, but I've had worse injuries, and time isn't something I've got the luxury of. Besides, Desmond tells me you'll be coming with us, so if it makes you feel better to harangue me about it, you can do it all you like on the way."

Dr. Lyndon's expression became angry. "Me telling you you could very well die if you move around too much isn't haranguing you, Mr. Berg."

Juhani snorted. "Details, Doctor. I call it what it is: nagging."

Dr. Lyndon's face went red. "If you think this is bad, Mr. Berg, just you wait till the first time you tear those stitches and need me to sew you back together."

The big Templar shrugged. "We can cross that bridge another time, perhaps." He gave her a sly look. "Just because you will yell at me for having to sew me back together doesn't mean you won't do it."

Dr. Lyndon opened her mouth to protest, and then closed it, looking flustered. Desmond and Lucy shared a glance as Desmond began to push the wheelchair towards the elevators. Kyle gurgled happily, and Lucy sighed. "Juhani, since you're just sitting around, you mind holding Kyle?"

Juhani blinked. The last time he'd held the baby, it had been to turn him over to the lab techs...

He reached up slowly, and Lucy deposited the baby into his arms. The wide golden gaze fixed on his with no fear, and the boy's chubby hand touched his cheek. Juhani smiled despite himself. His daughter had used to stroke his cheek with the selfsame gesture when she was a baby, and it had always gone straight to his heart.

To his shock, the baby's hand settled on his cheek, and he saw his daughter's face, blurred until it came close. In his mind, he saw her smile at him, and she whispered, _"Oh, you are a cute little baby! __Your eyes are just like the man who __helped __Daddy__..."_

Juhani almost dropped the baby in shock as he realized the vision he was seeing was from the baby's point of view. "What...what on Earth...?" he gasped, and the images faded as the baby moved his hand away.

Desmond looked down at him.

"What's wrong?"

Juhani looked down at the baby in his arms, who yawned, the golden eyes closing as he put a thumb in his mouth and went to sleep.

"I...when your son touched me...I...I saw my daughter. She was...talking to him..."

The wheelchair stopped, and Desmond came around to look at him.

"You saw things when he touched you?" Mutely, the blonde Templar nodded. Desmond nodded. "I thought so. Minerva was right."

Juhani stared at the Assassin. "What are you talking about?" He noticed Dr. Lyndon lean closer as well, and Desmond grinned. "It's a couple hours to where we're going. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Juhani had his credulity stretched to the limit during the next two and a half hours. Desmond told him a story of creation very different than the one he'd read in the Bible, and then they story of The Ones Who Came Before, of whom the dark-haired woman he'd noticed in their camp was apparently a member Desmond had spared from certain death.

Dr. Lyndon had listened as well, seemingly totally spellbound by Desmond's story. Lucy had explained her role in the Templars as well as the events of the Vault in Rome that had made her decide to re-join the Assassins – and also of Vidic's and Cross' deaths. Juhani had shrugged at that. He hadn't particularly liked Vidic – he'd found the man too reckless by half though his Animus training was effective, and he'd had to restrain himself from punching Cross every time he'd been forced to listen to the other man whine about him being sent on missions ahead him.

As they pulled into the city, Desmond went silent, focusing on dodging traffic. Juhani lay on the stretcher they'd appropriated from the hospital, trying to wrap his mind around all that Desmond had told him. Part of him wanted to believe the Assassin was well and truly mad, but another part of him was astounded and frightened by the way certain pieces – things that had never really made sense about the Templars' doctrine – clicked.

Juhani sighed. "It's...a lot to take in, Desmond...you'll understand if a part of me thinks you're completely insane."

To his surprise, Desmond laughed.

"That's okay Juhani, there are some days I think I'm insane too. Altair and Ezio agree with you, if it helps."

Juhani frowned. "They can hear you?" He looked around, and Desmond sighed. Dr. Lyndon let out a small scream, unconciously crowding up against the side of Juhani's stretcher as the van was suddenly cramped with the forms of the two ancient Assassins.

"They...they just appeared out of nowhere!"

Juhani scowled. "Master of the obvious, I see." Dr. Lyndon returned his scowl. "Don't be an ass, Mr. Berg, or I'll accidentally swap your painkillers for a sedative."

Juhani growled.

"You wouldn't dare."

Dr. Lyndon's eyes narrowed.

"Try me."

Ezio's voice broke into their conversation. "Ah, young love. How encouraging it is to see that some things do not change."

Juhani's expression froze, and he felt the heat of a blush burn under his skin, seeing the same expression on Lyndon's face.

"Your ancestors are all as crazy as you are, Desmond." Lyndon frowned. "For once, I agree with Mr. Berg, Desmond."

To their surprise, the Assassins all laughed. Juhani growled. "We're surrounded by insane people." Dr. Lyndon sighed, grinning.

"Well...you know what they say, if you can't beat em, join em, right?" Juhani almost choked on that. "Am I the only sane person in this van?" Desmond and the others just laughed harder, and despite himself, Juhani eventually gave up and laughed with them.

**A/N: Okay...last chapter for tonight people. Let me know what you think. And fine...if it's the general consensus, William is kind of a bastard. That being said, it'll all work out in the end, I promise!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**11/2/2013**

**16:00**

**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA**

It took all of Rebecca's willpower to look the irate William in the eyes as he stared her down. "Sorry Bill..." she said. "I guess I must've forgotten that last drive at the camp. We'll still have access to our internal servers...I just can't provide us Internet access without the main server drive."

William's voice was soft with anger.

"Becca, this isn't like you. I've seen you catalog every last USB stick of our equipment during pack ups...and now you're telling me you somehow forgot the one hard drive that has our main server's internet access settings on it?"

Rebecca sighed.

"Sorry Bill, I was rushed. Your order to move was...unexpected."

William's expression went cold.

"I see." He moved towards her, and Rebecca resisted the urge to take a step back. "Did Desmond perhaps order you to sabotage our equipment?"

Rebecca shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Bill. It was an honest mistake."

William growled. "Your 'honest mistake' will cost us a day while I send Harlan to the camp to look for that drive. Where'd you hide it?" Rebecca shook her head again. "I didn't hide anything Bill, and I don't know where it is."

William sighed, turning away from her.

"Becca I never thought you'd betray the Assassins. Out of all of us...has everyone lost their minds?" Rebecca frowned. "I didn't betray anything, Bill...it was..."

William's voice was a shout, and now Rebecca did take a step back.

"You're still _lying_ to me!"

The accusation was more than Rebecca could bear, and she snapped back, "You aren't the Assassins Bill! Or have you forgotten we're a team? When did we become a dictatorship?" William snarled. "And now the truth comes out. I'm the Mentor, Rebecca. I lead the Assassins!"

Rebecca spat, her dark eyes angry now.

"You're not the Mentor anymore!"

Shaun walked into the room to the echo of a slap, and he froze, staring at William standing before Rebecca, her hand pressed to her face, tears streaming down her face. "What...what the Hell, Bill!" he cried, and he rushed to Rebecca's side. "Becca? Are you okay?"

William snarled. "Shaun, take her back to her room. Hopefully I can at least trust you." To his surprise, Shaun stood back. "Trust me? What are you talking about? Bill, you're out of control."

William rounded on the British historian, and Desmond's voice cracked like a whip.

"Stop!"

William's gaze went to Desmond, who somehow stood in the doorway of the small conference room. Desmond strode into the room, his eyes flickering over Rebecca's tear-stained face, her hand still pressed to her cheek.

"Shaun, take Becca and go meet the others downstairs. Doc Lyndon can get you some ice."

His gaze flickered to William, and his expression went hard. "I will have a word with my Dad. Alone."

Shaun led Rebecca out of the room quickly, and William looked at Desmond. "How did you find us?" he demanded.

Desmond's voice was very quiet as he spoke.

"I honestly don't know what to do right now, Dad."

William snorted. "The story of your entire life. You never did have any direction, Desmond. I did what I had to do. You bringing that Templar into our camp was tantamount to betraying everything the Order stands for. They're our enemies, Desmond, not our friends...they don't deserve our sympathy or help. Don't you remember anything you were told as a child? Or did you forget it all in an alcohol-induced haze?"

Desmond's jaw worked, and he said, "I remember very well, Dad. I remember going to bed afraid to sleep." William sighed. "Didn't that teach you anything, Desmond? The Templars are our enemies."

Desmond's tone was firm as he replied, "It taught me something Dad. It taught me to fear what I didn't understand. It taught me to fear boogeymen in the dark, the death of my family."

He straightened. "It didn't teach me how to solve any of that. The Templars might be our enemies, but we are all still human. The Ones Who Came Before...they created one set of hybrids. One set of people who shared their abilities enough to use their tools."

"It wasn't until one of the first ones created coveted the power of the tools for himself that we wound up with a difference of belief in how they ought to be used."

Desmond's gaze bored into William's as he said, "That difference of belief happened millenia ago Dad, and what you taught me as a child is proof that you'd rather waste your life, mine and Kyle's nursing that same old grudge."

William growled. "We're not talking about some musty theory, Desmond! We're talking about people everyday who are getting killed because of your 'difference of belief!'"

Desmond's voice was a shout now, and his golden gaze blazed fire.

"Where does that stop Dad? It never stops! It goes on forever...we kill them, they kill us in retaliation. Over and over and fucking over...never ending. Nothing happens while that loop goes on Dad! We don't have time for nothing to happen! Juno almost won...had things been a tiny bit different in December she would have, and then what you fear the Templars doing wouldn't have mattered because there wouldn't have been anything left to fight over!"

William's gaze was wide for a moment, and then it narrowed. "You don't know that." Desmond's chest heaved as he said, "I do know that. And I can think of only one way to show you."

Desmond moved deliberately towards William now, and the older man backed off, suddenly terrified.

"Des-Desmond...what are you doing? Stay back!"

"I'm sorry Dad. I don't know any other way to show you...and you have to understand."

William tried to dodge as Desmond lunged, inhumanly fast, and he struggled in his son's grip. "Let me go!" Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, _"Be still."_ The compulsion washed over William, and he felt his limbs relax.

Desmond forced him to sit in a conference chair. William looked helplessly up at his son, his form wreathed in that golden light as the voice he couldn't disobey spoke again.

"_Use your power."_

Desmond knelt in front of him, and William's hand came up to touch his face, and at the contact there was a vibration in the air, an explosion of light without sound, and then William saw.

_The world spun away beneath him, and he realized that he perched somewhere far above it. He felt Desmond beside him, and Desmond's voice echoed from somewhere as he said, "Watch."_

_William watched as the fires from Heaven lashed at the glittering blue world, their home, and he saw people running and screaming, their skin melting from the heat. He heard the lamentations of millions, voices raised in despair and anguish. _

_The sense of wrongness assaulted him. This wasn't supposed to happen...they'd saved the world, hadn't they? The world looked different now, and William realized with shock what he was seeing was the future. _

_The destruction seemed to take ages, as his vision flitted from one city to the next, seeing meteors raining from the sky, volcanoes erupting from the Earth itself as if the planet itself were bent on ridding itself of the tiny beings who infested it._

_William felt himself sob as the terror of the world's population rushed over him in waves. He felt every burn, every crushing wound, the loss of every life. He was screaming without being aware of it._

_His vision spun down to street level, and he saw hooded Assassins and Templars look up as the fiery doom descended upon them. _

_Heedless of any ancient feud, the Assassins and Templars cowered together as the fire consumed them..._

* * *

Rebecca looked up as they all did at the sound of an agonized scream from upstairs. Rebecca's eyes widened. "That sounds like...William. What's Des doing to him?"

As one, the Assassins rushed back up the stairs, seeing a golden glow fade from within the conference room. Rebecca pushed open the door and saw Desmond kneeling before his father, his head bowed, tears running down his face.

William's face bore an expression of stark terror, and he seemed to be unaware of the tears that ran down his own face, his gaze blank with shock.

Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, "That's what I fear. Every second of every day, Dad."

William's voice was choked as he finally spoke, his voice shaking.

"How...how can you...stand...all that pain?"

Desmond's response was low.

"I stand it because I have to, Dad. Since the day I absorbed Altair's Apple. Altair first saw it 800 years ago...and it was that vision that drove him to imprint himself into his Apple so he would be able to wait for me."

The others filed in silently, and Desmond rose to his feet slowly. Lucy went to Desmond, wrapping him in a tight embrace, and to their shock, he leaned his head against Lucy's shoulder, and from between clenched teeth, they heard a muffled sob.

Altair and Ezio stepped out of nowhere to shield Desmond and Lucy from their eyes, and Altair's voice was quiet as he said, "Desmond will need a few moments to compose himself. Please assist William downstairs and see to the disposition of the equipment."

Rebecca nodded, and they filed back downstairs with the shell-shocked William, the door closing behind them.

Juhani's ice-blue gaze settled on the somber group that descended the stairs, stopping on William, who was assisted to sit in a chair near the prone Templar. "I take it William has had a change of...heart." William's voice was low as he said, "I still don't like you, Templar. But what Desmond showed me...has convinced me your being here is the least of our problems for now."

His gray eyes narrowed at the big man. "That being said, **I **still consider you a problem to be dealt with at some point." Juhani growled. "Well then, we can go find a nice private place to cut each other up when I'm all healed up."

Dr. Lyndon's voice broke into their conversation. "I didn't put my career at risk to save your life for you to go picking fights with Desmond's father, Mr. Berg." Juhani frowned at her. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm quite a bit bigger than you are, Doctor. What makes you think you'd be able to stop me?"

Dr. Lyndon frowned.

"Size isn't everything, Mr. Berg...and I happen to know quite a few drugs that will drop an elephant in its tracks. One of them ought to work on you."

Shaun groaned. "Oh, God. Not another one. For everyone's sake, why don't you two just get a room?"

The response was simultaneous from both the blonde Templar and the doctor. "Shut up, Shaun!"

**A/N: Proof positive Des is quite capable of using the power he has with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer when need be.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**11/9/2013**

**09:00**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Desmond didn't think he'd ever been happier to sit on a couch. Trish had insisted Juhani stay at her apartment, and the big Templar hadn't really been in a position to argue.

Lucy had returned to work at Einstein, more to ensure she kept her job then any real desire to return to work. Today she'd taken both Kyle and Ansa with her to the University daycare to give Desmond and Juhani a break. Despite the fact the biggest threat to Kyle had been removed, Michael and John still shadowed Lucy and the children. Minerva had elected to stay with Rebecca, who was grateful for the company.

Desmond hadn't talked to his father since the day he'd forced his father to relive the vision that haunted him every night. He closed his eyes wearily. It'd been about a week, and the nightmares were starting to abate once again. He was exhausted. Harlan hadn't been happy about William's change of heart, but Desmond had distracted him from dwelling on it by sending him and Shaun out to gather intel on Rikkin.

He roused at a heavy knock on the door, getting to his feet, his finger over the trigger of his hidden blade. "Who is it?" he said through the door, and Juhani's voice echoed from the hallway.

"Just open the damn door, or I'll kick it down again."

Desmond frowned, opening the door and looking at the blonde Templar.

"You know the complex charged us an arm and a leg to get that fixed last time. You must be feeling better." The big Templar smirked. "Subtlety has never been a strong point of mine, and as for feeling better...I feel better than I did, but if I didn't get out of that apartment I was going to go crazy."

Desmond silently motioned the blonde man in, and he walked slowly into the room, seating himself silently on the couch where Desmond had been sitting.

"I knew I had the right place. What I can't understand is why I was concerned about it at all..." Juhani muttered, and Desmond sighed.

"I used the power of the Apple on you. It didn't fully stick because you have Precursor DNA...those of us who carry those genes can resist the use of the Pieces of Eden on us." Desmond grimaced. "At the time, I didn't know. Minerva told me, when she saw you in camp."

Juhani's eyes opened to focus on the dark-haired Assassin. "I figured you had done something like that. I couldn't prove it though..." His gaze darkened. "And it seems that it wouldn't have mattered if I had."

Desmond sighed.

"For what its worth...I'm sorry, Juhani."

The big Templar shrugged. "Rikkin told me I'd failed a test of faith. That the Templars' work came before everything...even family." Desmond was quiet a moment, then said, "Assassins believe the Creed is a guideline...but that ultimately, we are all responsible for the decisions we make...good and bad."

Juhani chuckled softly. "Existentialism at its most pure."

Desmond leaned against his kitchen counter. "Yeah, basically." They both tensed at the sound of another knock at the door, and their gazes met, narrowed.

Juhani tensed, and Desmond's finger hovered over the trigger of his hidden blade as he answered the door, cracking it open to see two uniformed police officers standing outside his door.

"Can I help you?" he said calmly, but his hand motioned Juhani towards the back of the apartment. The big Templar moved silently for the bedroom, stepping behind the door and cracking it so he could hear.

The police officers eyed him, and Desmond's eyes settled on a flier one of them held. A new copy of the missing poster John had found a few blocks from the bar. His eyes narrowed as he noted that the phone number on it was not the main line at Bad Weather.

The officer noticed him glance at it and said, "Are you Desmond Miles?" Desmond frowned. "Mind if I ask what this about?"

The police officers looked at each other. "We got a report that a guy who's been missing a little over a year was seen in this area...one of your neighbors described you, and you certainly look like you match the description on this missing poster. The officer frowned. "Though, the flier lists the missing guy's eyes as brown...other than that, either you're Desmond Miles or this missing guy is your long-lost twin brother."

Desmond was silent, then said quietly, _"__Y__ou've got the wrong guy."_

The police officers' eyes glowed golden as they obediently left the apartment building. Desmond closed the door as Juhani stepped out of the bedroom. "Why were those cops asking for you? How did they know your name?"

Desmond frowned. "There were some missing posters put up around the bar I used to work at. That missing poster didn't have the same phone number as the one we found though...which means Rikkin's using it to send law enforcement after me." He looked seriously at the blonde Templar.

"I'm willing to bet a missing poster or random criminal charges are going to start appearing with your face on em too, Juhani."

The blonde Templar snorted.

"It's a little late for that. One gains something of a reputation with law enforcement as a mercenary. They won't have to look very hard to find all kinds of prison-worthy things on my records if Rikkin has released them. Part of when I became a Templar was them agreeing to expunge my records."

As if on cue, Desmond's smart phone rang. Desmond picked it up, and Lucy's voice was a hushed growl.

"Des, why are there cops at my office looking for me? I'm already on the way home with the kids, but what the hell is going on?"

Desmond growled.

"Juhani and I think Rikkin's sending law enforcement after us. Get here as fast as you can, and call the others and warn them. It looks like we're gonna go camping again."

Juhani shook his head as Desmond hung up the phone.

"I don't think going back into the woods is going to help us much, Desmond. If anything, it makes us vulnerable...none of that is defensible, and Rikkin has the entirety of NYPD at his disposal if that's what it takes to bring us in. The next step in all this is that he'll put us all on terrorist watch lists. At that point, none of us will be able to leave the country."

Desmond ground his teeth together. "Do we have any way of finding out where Rikkin is?"

Juhani's gaze narrowed.

"His main office is in Rome. He was here in New York, but he may well have traveled back there. Without access to his computer I don't know how we're to find out where he actually is."

Desmond's gaze became thoughtful.

"I know someone who might be able to get us that information, but in the meantime we need a place to hide close to the airport and transportation out of the country."

Juhani paced the living room.

"I don't have any underground contacts in the U.S., Desmond. All my contacts here were through the Templars. We certainly won't be able to use legal means or fake identities to move around now that Rikkin's put his fingers into the law enforcement pie...and if we don't get out of the public eye soon, he'll send the Feds after us."

Juhani stopped pacing, eyeing Desmond. "Do you know anyone with contacts in the underground who might be able to help us?"

Desmond nodded. "I know someone...though if she'll help me at this point is a little debatable." Juhani sighed. "Can't you just...?" he made a motion to indicate the use of Desmond's power, and Desmond sighed.

"I can if I have to...but I'd really rather not if I can avoid it this time." One blonde brow rose as Juhani asked, "'This time' implies you've done it before..."

Desmond nodded grimly. "Yeah. I erased her memory of having seen me because I was afraid this very thing would happen. Looks like I was both right and that it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

Desmond growled. "Let's gather up everyone...and then we're all going to have a celebratory round of drinks at a bar."

**A/N: Okay, I lied...two chapters before Tuesday. I've still got some homework to finish, mind you, but I had to get this posted. Enjoy!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22**

**11/9/2013**

**19:00**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

It had taken them most of the day to get everyone gathered at a local hotel, and for once Desmond was grateful for the slowness of the bureaucracy. The police Rikkin had sent after them hadn't managed to hit all of the Assassins at the same time, and so Desmond and the others had been able to warn everyone – or in the case of John, persuade the police he didn't need to be arrested – in time.

The bar was packed, as was usual for a Saturday night. Desmond, Juhani, John and Michael were seated at a table at the bar. The others had elected to stay in a series of rooms under fake identities at a nearby hotel. Shaun and Harlan had not yet checked back in on their mission, and worry gnawed at the back of Desmond's mind.

Desmond's musings were interrupted by the sound of Christine's voice.

"Des...Desmond?"

Desmond steeled himself, and to his surprise, Juhani spoke from beside him. "I hope your man there has learned how to make a decent drink, lady."

Desmond glanced over at Juhani, and Christine's eyes were narrowed at the blonde Templar before they moved to Desmond.

"Des, do you know this guy?"

Desmond nodded. Christine's gaze studied Desmond for a moment longer, and then she asked Juhani accusingly, "If you knew Desmond was okay, why didn't you tell me?" The blonde Templar looked at Desmond, a bit embarrassed.

"Well...at the time, I was sent to kill him."

Christine frowned, one dark brow going up. She eyed Desmond sitting casually next to the blond Templar. "You were sent to kill...Desmond."

Juhani shrugged. "There are quite a few people interested in seeing him dead."

Desmond huffed. "Thanks Juhani. You know, next, you could say that a little louder so they could hear you over the DJ." The blonde Templar suddenly grinned wolfishly, and Desmond frowned.

"If you actually do that, I swear I will put you back in the hospital."

Christine held up her hands.

"I don't know what any of this is, Des...but you owe me an explanation. You disappeared for over a year and then show up here with no explanation, acting like nothing's happened."

Desmond sighed heavily. "I wish that were the truth, Chris. Actually, I'm here to ask for your help." Christine's gaze narrowed at the men who sat around the table.

"What kind of help?"

Desmond's expression tightened.

"I need you to get me in contact with someone who has...eyes and ears in low places."

Christine's eyes widened, then narrowed, and she hissed, "Des, are you fucking high? Those guys will kill you soon as look at you..."

Desmond's voice was low as he said, "I know it's dangerous, Chris, but I don't have much choice. The guys after me...they've got the Feds on a leash."

Christine whistled. "Who the fuck did you piss off Des? What have you been doing for the past year?"

Christine looked around, absently stepping out of the way of a drunken patron. "I think we should talk about this someplace less public."

Desmond nodded, moving to get up, and the others followed suit. Christine held up a hand. "I want to talk to Des alone guys." John shook his head, growling. "No way." Christine glared at him, and then looked at Desmond. "Call off your friends or this conversation is over, Des. I want to talk to you, in the back, alone, right now."

Desmond's gaze narrowed, and Christine didn't notice the flicker of his Eagle Vision. She glowed brightly blue, and idly, Desmond swept his gaze over the table. All of the men seated at it glowed blue as well. His jaw set, and he said quietly, "Fine."

Desmond saw the protest on John's face, and leaned over, whispering in the other man's ear for a moment. John nodded, crossing his arms. "Yes, sir."

Christine led the way into the familiar back room of the bar. Desmond glanced around. His last time here he hadn't really looked around at it, and now a wave of nostalgia swept over him. He'd spent so much time in this tiny space.

The dark-haired Assassin sighed, pushing the memories away. Christine eyed him. "You look like you've lost weight, Des." Desmond shrugged. "You don't really want to ask how I'm doing, Chris. I know you well enough. What do you really want to talk to me about?"

Christine threw up her hands, frustrated.

"God dammit Des, you disappeared for over a year with no word, no phone call, not even a fucking e-mail. Up until a few minutes ago, I thought you were fucking dead! I think I'm entitled to at least know where you've been and why you didn't come back to the bar!"

Desmond sighed. "It's a long, long story Chris. I don't have time to tell it. Believe me, I wish I did, but I've got hours before the guys who're after me figure out what I've done...and by then I need to figure out a way out of the country."

Christine growled. "What are you running from this time Des?" The comment stung, and before he could stop himself, Desmond growled, "I'm running from people who want to kill my family, Chris."

Christine blinked, and her eyes went to his left hand, widening as they settled on the gold band that encircled it.

"What the fuck Des...you're married?"

The pain in her eyes was immediate, and Desmond steeled himself against it. "Yeah. This past March." Christine was silent a long moment, then said, "So you ran off to get married, is that it? Didn't want to tell me about it? Who is this chick anyway?"

Desmond growled. "Lucy isn't some random girl I met in a club, Chris. It's...hard to explain."

Christine's gaze narrowed. "So you disappear for a year, show up here married to some girl I've never met, hanging out with guys who look like they could be Navy SEALS, ask for my help and...then what? You'll go back to your 'family'?"

Desmond swallowed.

"It'd be better for you if that was the case, Chris." Christine stared at him, then snarled, "What you think I'm just gonna forget you?"

Desmond's voice was very quiet as he said, "You did once before, at my suggestion. Don't make me do that again, Chris."

Christine's gaze narrowed at him.

"What the fuck are you talking about Des?"

Desmond frowned. "I was here before, Chris. A couple months ago, as a matter of fact. You don't remember it because I made you forget. It's one of the things that happened to me in that year I was gone. I'm not the same guy who tended bar for you anymore, Chris."

His voice was very quiet as he said, "I am what I was meant to be."

Christine laughed, her laughter bearing a tinge of panic.

"What you were meant to be? That sounds a lot like the talk you said you ran away from, Des." Her eyes widened. "They came and took you, didn't they? Your parents...they brainwashed you!"

Desmond sighed, shaking his head.

"No, Chris." Christine's gaze narrowed. "I don't believe you, Des. The Des I know would have never bought into that mystical bullshit." To her surprise, Desmond threw back his head and laughed.

"The Des you knew didn't know the fucking half of what was really out there...and the Des you knew almost paid for that ignorance with his life." Desmond's gaze went distant. "If you can't help me, I'll have to go. I don't have any more time to waste here."

Christine shook her head, angry tears marring her makeup. "God dammit Des, I don't even know who you are anymore! Isn't there anything left in there of the Des I knew and loved?"

Christine moved close to him then, kissing him.

Desmond froze for an instant in shock, and then his hand pushed Christine away. He growled, his golden gaze smoldering.

"Don't do that."

Christine stared at him, shocked, a humiliated blush burning in her face. Desmond straightened, his expression a mask.

"I think it's better if I go."

Christine's voice was hurt as she said, "Since when do you get pissed off when I kiss you, Des?"

Desmond was silent, turning towards the back door.

"Des!" Christine yelled. "Fucking answer me! You owe me that much!"

Desmond shook his head, and at that moment, Juhani crashed through the kitchen door, landing on his back with a grunt.

Gunfire sounded next over the thump of the music, and the blonde Templar looked up at Desmond with a scowl on his face.

"We've got company. Also, they've got guns that have larger magazines than mine. Are you done reminiscing?"

Desmond helped up the big Templar, who winced. "Great. Fucking stitches. If you breathe a word of this to Trish, I'll kick your ass, Desmond."

Desmond grinned tightly. "I'll remember that the next time you get ideas about loudspeakers, Juhani."

Gunfire rattled again, and Desmond pushed Christine to the ground. As the man wielding the gun pushed through the doorway, Desmond leapt, his back arched like a cat, driving a combat knife that had somehow appeared in his hand into the man's face.

Christine stared as Desmond took the dying man to the ground, disarming him. "How many?" The big blond man grunted.

"Ten. More coming. We need to evacuate now."

Christine cowered near the counter. "What the hell is going on?" she shrieked, and Desmond growled. "I'm going to regret doing this."

Christine struggled as Desmond lifted her over his shoulder. "Des, what the fuck?"

Desmond's voice was a low growl as he said, "I'm saving your life. I owe it to you, after all."

**A/N: Can we say tension? I'm sure we can! Also, the fic itself has been renamed to "Light of the World" cause I'm considering making this series a trilogy and wanted to use an "of the World" naming scheme. Yeah I know, it's cheese, but what fic isn't? :) More coming up, though it may not get posted tonight. **


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**11/9/2013**

**20:00**

**Brooklyn, New York, USA**

Lucy sat up from her doze as she heard the door to their room open. Kyle napped in the portable crib they always carried as part of their supplies now. Desmond walked in, his hoodie spattered with blood.

"Des!...how much of that is yours?"

Desmond shook his head.

"None. We ran out of time at the bar. I brought Christine here. Couldn't take the risk they'd interrogate her, and I didn't have time to use my power."

Lucy stood up, helping him strip off his hoodie and T-shirt. The silver of Kyle's dog tags gleamed in the dim light, and Desmond sighed. Lucy's hands traced over his warm skin, and Desmond relaxed into her touch, wrapping her in an embrace.

Lucy's lips were soft on his, and Desmond growled softly. When she released him, his gaze was smoldering, liquid honey. Lucy read his gaze. "What's wrong Des?"

Desmond put his head into her shoulder, his arms tightening around her. Before he could speak, there was another knock at the door. Lucy could feel Desmond tense. They ignored the door, and then a woman's voice called from behind it, "I know you're in there, Des! Open the fucking door or I swear to God I'll kick it down!"

Lucy felt Desmond sigh against her, and she looked up at him.

"No. You go shower. I'll handle this." Desmond looked uncertain, and Lucy's gaze went firm. "Go, Des. We have to pack up to leave anyway."

Desmond went obediently into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Lucy unlocked the hotel room door, meeting the irate gaze of a woman she presumed was Christine.

Christine had pale skin and paler blue eyes, her face wreathed by defiantly curly black hair. She was older than Desmond by perhaps 8 or 9 years, her face bearing the faintest signs of her age, covered expertly with makeup. Her face was currently flushed with anger, and Lucy forced herself to remain calm.

"Come in."

The other woman stepped into the hotel room, looking around. Lucy noticed her eyes stop on the pack and play where Kyle napped, and her eyes went wide.

"Des has a kid?" she breathed, and Lucy's voice was deliberately calm as she said, "Kyle. He's almost four months old now."

Christine's gaze settled on her, sizing her up, and Lucy straightened. "So you're Lucy." Lucy nodded. "Lucy Miles. Nice to meet you. Des has told me a lot about you, Christine."

The other woman looked at her hand, shaking it after a minute. "Where is he anyway?" her pale eyes scanned the room, and Lucy's mouth tightened a little.

"Des is cleaning up. He'll be out in a minute."

Christine's gaze wandered back over to Kyle, who was awake, watching them curiously.

There was a sound from the bathroom door, and both women's gazes stopped on Desmond's form outlined by the bathroom light. He wore his jeans, his torso bared, and Lucy heard Christine suck in a breath at sight of him.

"Jesus, Des...you've been working out."

Desmond eyed her. "You might say that."

Lucy handed him the silver chain of Kyle's dog tags, and he slid them over his neck. Kyle fussed from the crib on seeing Desmond, and Desmond strode easily past them to pick up the baby. Desmond's expression cracked into a smile as the baby batted at his cheek, cooing and gurgling happily.

Desmond nuzzled the baby in his arms. "Someone's a happy little camper tonight, arent'cha little man?" Lucy smiled. "He seemed to miss his Daddy." Desmond grinned playfully. "Oh man, I'd better split before he comes back."

Lucy laughed. "Right. Like anyone'd mistake Ky for someone else's kid with those eyes."

Desmond shrugged.

"Altair, maybe."

Christine cleared her throat, and Desmond's gaze swung to her. "Who's Al...al-tay-ear...Des?"

Lucy looked at Desmond, frowning. "You didn't tell her anything, did you?"

Desmond sighed. "As I said, no time. Which we still don't have so..." He turned to Christine. "We need to get going, and unfortunately since they saw you with me, you're coming with, Chris."

Christine frowned. "Don't I get a say in this?" Desmond frowned. "Sure Chris. If you want to stay here, the Templars will find you, torture you, and possibly kill you, even if I wipe your memory of the events they'll want to ask you about. If you want to come with us, then we'll protect you, and you might get to go home at some point when this is over."

There was another knock at the door, and Desmond frowned, handing Kyle to Lucy as he answered it.

Rebecca stood on the other side, blushing when she saw Desmond. "Er...Des, I got a message from Shaun. They got picked up by the cops in the sting. He and Harlan are being held at NYPD."

Desmond growled. "Okay. Get everything ready to go, and round up John, Michael and Juhani."

Rebecca nodded. "Trish...uh...Doc Lyndon is pretty mad at him. Apparently he tore some stitches in that firefight. She says if he tears any more out she's gonna let him bleed for awhile before she stitches him back up."

Desmond winced. "Ouch."

Lucy stepped forward. "I think it'd be better if I went to get them, Des." Desmond turned to look at her, one dark brow raised curiously. "You? Mind if I ask why?"

Lucy nodded. "You were seen. And likely they don't have my picture posted on every wall for ten miles of where they're holding Shaun and Harlan." She grimaced. "Plus...Harlan's still kind of pissed off at you. He might refuse to go with you."

Christine had years of practice watching Desmond's face, and she expected him to be angry at the blunt assessment of this guy Harlan's dislike for him. To her surprise, Desmond's gaze became thoughtful, settling into resolution as he said, "I don't like it Luce, but you're right about that. How are you going to get near the police station? Likely they've at least got your description out there..."

Lucy smiled. "You'll see."

* * *

The team met at a hideout about an hour later, and John whistled as Lucy stepped out of the back of the van. She wore a dark wig, her face heavily made up. Despite the weather, she wore a tight top with a push up bra, black jeans that hugged her legs and hips and a short jean jacket.

Desmond blinked, his face flushing as he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "Wow, Luce."

Lucy smiled at Desmond. "I'll judge from Desmond's dumbfounded look that the costume achieves the desired effect."

Juhani's gaze roamed over Lucy in the outfit, and he nudged Desmond, his expression sly.

"She doesn't dress up like that for your often enough, I see."

The dark-haired Assassin groaned, his eyes still on Lucy. "Not _nearly_ often enough." Lucy frowned, wagging a finger at Desmond. "Down, boy. This is just to get Shaun and Harlan out of jail. Besides if you think this is good, you should see Becca. John and Michael are going to be detectives."

Rebecca stepped out of the van next, wearing uncharacteristically bright clothing. Her top was also unnecessarily tight, and she wore blue jeans to Lucy's black and high boots with rhinestones. Her dark hair had been left down, and she wore heavy makeup as well as colored contacts.

Desmond grinned at her. "Shaun's going to fall over when he sees you, Becca."

Rebecca snorted. "I certainly hope so. God knows I've done everything but hit him over the head with it. For such an intelligent guy he can be dense as a brick sometimes."

Lucy moved over to Desmond, kissing him, and Christine looked away.

The van left and Christine watched as Desmond quietly organized the strange assemblage of people he had apparently fallen in with after he'd disappeared. The big blonde man – Juhani – talked with him quietly. He would have been handsome, she mused, were it not for the scarring that marred one side of his face. She saw the doctor's eyes narrow at seeing her gaze on the blonde man, and she sighed.

The little girl – apparently the blonde man's daughter – played with Desmond's son on a blanket, and Christine watched as a strange, dark-haired woman drifted amongst the group, almost like a ghost. Once or twice, Christine caught the woman's gaze on her, and the dark-haired woman's gaze chilled her, seeming to see through her soul.

A voice interrupted her musings, and she turned to face an older man with gray eyes. He looked a great deal like Desmond might in 20 years, and he cleared his throat as he said, "Christine? … I'm William Miles, Desmond's father."

Christine blinked at him.

"Did Des really run away from you?"

William's expression became pained as he said, "Yes."

Christine's gaze narrowed.

"Does that mean what he told me about you was true? That you'd hit him?"

William nodded silently. To his surprise, he didn't see outrage in the woman's eyes. Christine sighed.

"I've seen and heard it all. Child abuse doesn't top some of the shit I've seen. You're still a colossal ass in my book, but at least you didn't kill Des."

Her eyes went distant, and she shook her head. "My dad killed my mom when he caught her cheating, and my uncle pimped me out to buy drugs, when I was 16." Her gaze went hard. "At least that good for nothing druggie was good for something...when he died in jail, I got his money. I started the bar...and everything was going good until the day your son showed up at my back door."

She shook her head. "For whatever reason I couldn't say no to him. I never could."

Her gaze went to Desmond, laughing at some joke. He looked relaxed, though he still had that wariness, that guarded protectiveness, about him. That hadn't been present when she'd last seen him laugh...the night before he'd disappeared.

"What happened to him?" She said softly, more to herself, but to her surprise William answered her quietly.

"He realized who he was. God knows it took him long enough to finally accept it...but once he did, there wasn't anything that could stop him." Christine heard the barest tinge of pride in the man's voice, and she looked back at him. "Who is he?"

William's gaze went to Desmond, and his gray eyes showed pride now. "An Assassin."

**A/N: Today has definitely not been supportive of writing, but I got this chapter finished at least. Hopefully Murphy will let up for tomorrow and I won't be sacrificing so much sleep to my Muse.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**11/9/2013**

**23:00**

**Bronx, New York, USA**

Shaun stared wide-eyed as Rebecca opened the door to the interview room he was being held in. The police had grilled him for hours, and he'd been half afraid the detective who'd threatened to put him in prison was coming back.

Rebecca was dressed in a deliberately skimpy outfit, wiping off the blade of a knife before putting it back under her jacket. She quickly picked the lock on the handcuffs they'd cuffed to a bar on the table, leaning over them for a moment and muttering curses about cheap locks.

Shaun found himself looking directly into her assets, on full display inches from his face.

"B...Becca?" he managed to say, suddenly breathless.

Rebecca muttered a final curse as the lock clicked. "C'mon Shaun. We have a few minutes before they come back in."

Shaun followed her out of the room, his eyes almost bugging out of his head entirely as he spotted Lucy, dressed in similar attire to Rebecca, wearing a dark wig. "What...what on Earth...why are you two dressed like...uh?" Rebecca rolled her eyes. "How the heck do you think we got into a police station, Shaun? We got arrested."

They all turned at a shout. "Stop right there!"

Rebecca muttered a curse, and Lucy's throwing knife whistled through the air, killing the man before he could draw his gun. "Come on!"

The Assassins ran for the doorway, and Lucy stumbled as the sound of gunfire echoed behind them.

"Luce!" Rebecca cried, and Shaun saw Lucy stumble again, her hand pressed to her side. "Go!" she cried, and Harlan broke away from them, dragging Lucy towards the van.

"Des will kill me if we leave you here!" he snarled.

Shaun took the driver's seat, the tires screeching on the pavement as they pulled away from the police station.

Lucy grimaced as Rebecca grimly checked out the wound. "It's nothing," she gasped, and Rebecca shook her head. "You got really lucky Luce...it looks like a clean hit."

Rebecca put pressure on the wound, the gauze soaking through with Lucy's blood.

Shaun was pale as he weaved through the streets towards the hideout.

"Is she going to be okay?" he demanded, and Rebecca sighed. "She'll be alright if we can get her to Trish. So stop talking and step on it."

Harlan eyed Lucy and Rebecca. "Where's John and Michael?" Rebecca smirked. "Oh they're away safe. Our original cover didn't work...so they set up a...distraction a few blocks away. I got a text from John they're back at the hideout."

They nodded, and Rebecca's gaze went back to Lucy. Her blue eyes were rolling back into her head, and Rebecca cursed. "She's going into shock. Luce...hey Luce, stay awake, huh?"

Lucy passed out, and Rebecca looked at Harlan. Shaun didn't need any more encouragement to drive faster.

* * *

Christine watched as Desmond climbed the walls of the hideout – quite literally. His movements were fluid and practiced, and she found herself watching him leap from catwalk to catwalk with effortless grace.

After a moment, she was startled to see another form join Desmond's. A tall, bearded man wrapped in black robes was suddenly following Desmond, his leather boots silent on the metal. Christine drew in her breath to warn Desmond as she saw the man's movements slow to a predatory crouch.

"Ezio wouldn't hurt Desmond. Watch."

To Christine's shock, Desmond leapt from the catwalks, his body twisting in mid-air, his hands catching the edge of an adjoining platform, and the other man's black robes streamed behind him as he followed Desmond. A strange game of chase played out before her eyes, and she saw Desmond's golden gaze glittering with amusement as he yelled something in a language she'd never heard him speak before – something that was clearly a taunt, for the black-robed man's gaze narrowed, a grin appearing on his face.

Desmond was forced to move faster now, as the black-robed man expertly cornered him on a high catwalk. The man in black robes said something to Desmond, and Desmond grinned. Christine could not stop her gasp as Desmond stepped off the ledge of the catwalk, his back arching into a swan dive. He landed on his feet and one hand in a pile of mats that had apparently been laid down for that purpose.

Dust rose in clouds above him as he got up from the mats, and Christine heard him cough a little and then immediately rolled out of the way as the black-robed man landed where he had been seconds before.

Christine watched as Desmond offered the black-robed man a hand, pulling him to his feet. William motioned them over, and Christine saw the man's dark eyes widen at seeing her, his expression first shocked and then sorrowful. Desmond stopped, saying something quietly to the man, whose gaze didn't leave her face. He muttered something and between one breath and the next, he was gone as if he'd never been, and Desmond stood alone.

Desmond's gaze was a little sad as he looked at where the other man had stood a moment before. Christine finally found her voice as she said, "Who was that? And why was he staring at me like that?" Desmond's voice was soft as he said, "His name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze. He's my ancestor, and he said you remind him a great deal of a woman he'd once loved and...lost." Desmond's gaze met hers, and she was shocked to see the sadness in his face. "Her name was Cristina, too."

Christine swallowed. "If he's your ancestor, doesn't that mean he's dead?"

Desmond sighed. "That's a long...yeah. For now just accept that he and another of my ancestors are able to appear when they want...as long as I'm awake."

There was a noise near the entrance, and Rebecca's voice called, "Trish! Lucy's been shot!"

Christine saw Desmond freeze in horror, and in an instant he was gone, running for the entrance where Rebecca and a tall man wearing a hood were helping in Lucy, whose abdomen was coated in red. The other Assassins who'd arrived earlier – Christine frowned as she tried to remember their names – Mike and John – ran over to help them.

The doctor made her way over to the group, her tone businesslike. "Get her on the stretcher. Juhani, bring me the silver tray over there."

Wordlessly, the big blonde Templar obeyed the order, passing the tray to Trish.

The doctor looked at Desmond, her gaze narrow.

"Desmond, I know you're worried about her, but I can't help her if you don't move."

Juhani took Desmond's arm. "She's right. Let her work. Her bedside manner is terrible if you make her nervous." Trish directed a scowl at the blonde man. "I was not nervous! Now shut up and let me get this bleeding stopped."

Juhani led Desmond towards William and Christine. Ansa ran up to Juhani, tugging on his hand. "Daddy! Come see!" She'd picked up enough English words in the weeks since they'd rescued Juhani to be understood, and she took every opportunity to use her new vocabulary.

Juhani shrugged helplessly at them as he was led away. Christine frowned after him. "That guy looks like he could rip a tree in half and pick his teeth with it, and yet he dotes on his little girl."

Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, "Juhani would give his life for his daughter. He almost did. Trish saved his life when the Templars turned on him."

William snorted. "I still don't like him Des. If nothing else, he's a bad influence."

Desmond rolled his eyes.

"Right Dad, cause he's totally gonna dare me to do drugs behind the gym."

William frowned. "Don't be sarcastic, Desmond, you know what I meant."

Desmond growled. "You once told me a stupid question deserves a stupid response. See, I didn't totally forget everything you used to tell me."

His gaze went to the stretcher as Lucy groaned, her body arching. "John, Michael, get over here and hold her down so I can get the bullet out." Desmond started to move, and Trish pointed the bloody end of a scalpel at him. "You don't move."

Desmond froze, his gaze going to Lucy, and Christine saw his fists clench. She put her hand on his tensed shoulder, the muscles beneath her hand hard as rock.

"C'mon Des."

After a few minutes, Trish came over, pulling down her mask and wiping her bloodied hands on a rag.

"She'll be okay, Des. I got the bullet out, and it was a clean hit to the chest, the bullet grazed her ribs. No internal bleeding though she's not going to be moving around much for a few weeks, if she heals half as fast as the rest you people."

Desmond's gaze flickered to her. "Can I see her?"

Trish nodded. "Just don't excite her, or I'll be re-doing her stitches. Speaking of which, where is Juhani?"

Desmond gestured in the direction Ansa had led the big Templar.

"Ansa led him that way."

William cleared his throat. "I'll...show you, Trish." Trish and William wandered off in the direction the Templar and his daughter had gone, and Desmond was alone with Christine.

Desmond turned to leave, and Christine's hand stopped him.

"Des...wait."

Desmond paused, his arm strained against her grasp. "Chris..." Christine's gaze became hard. "You heard...Trish. She'll be okay." Desmond swallowed, his gaze flickering longingly over to the stretcher Lucy lay on, her regular breathing indicating she slept, John and Michael having taken up watch positions at the entrances.

"But..."

Christine pulled on Desmond more firmly.

"Des, I know you want to go check on her, but she'll be fine for a few minutes for us to talk, and I know you're avoiding me."

Desmond reluctantly turned towards her, his gaze suddenly tired.

"What do you want?"

Christine frowned. "I don't really understand any of this...Assassin or Templar business you've gotten mixed up in Des. Your Dad says you're an Assassin, but what does that mean? Does it mean you kill people for money or something...like that guy in the bar?"

Desmond sighed. "Yes and no. We kill when it's necessary, Chris. The Templars are after us, and they control the government. The guy we're currently after is the head of the whole thing. He used to be Juhani's boss."

Christine's eyes narrowed. "That's another thing I don't get. Your Dad said Assassins and Templars have hated each other for … centuries, but you seem to be pretty chummy with the blond guy."

Desmond frowned.

"Juhani's a Templar. They screwed him pretty hard, and he almost died. After that, he stayed with us. We're all in the same boat...the Templars want us dead...or in Kyle's case, something worse."

Desmond glanced over at his son, and Christine stared as an old man dressed in robes similar to the other man's appeared to pick up the baby, rocking him gently and speaking to him in another language she couldn't understand.

Christine growled. "I don't get any of this Des...weird guys in robes and killing and...it all seems so complicated. And who's she? She hasn't come to talk to me since I got here, but her stare creeps me out." She gestured at Minerva, who'd appeared next to Altair, smiling down at Kyle. They both frequently doted on the boy, and Desmond saw Minerva's eyes narrow as she saw Christine's gaze on her.

Desmond sighed. "Her name is Minerva...and as to who she is...you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Suffice it to say, she's not someone you want to piss off."

Christine shook her head.

"Des..." Her gaze softened. "You're like a different person." Desmond stiffened as her hand touched his face, and his eyes glinted as he moved away.

"I told you before, don't do that."

Christine snarled. "What happened to you Des? What happened to … us? Don't you care about me at all?"

Desmond frowned. "Yes, of course I care about you..." His gaze darkened. "But not like that. I'm sorry." Christine eyed him. "No, you're not. You never were a good liar, Des. So what we had before...before all this...it didn't mean anything to you?"

Desmond growled, his gaze going to Lucy's still form, and his jaw worked as he said, "Chris...at the time...it meant something. Now...I have a wife and kid. I have a responsibility to the Assassins...to the world." He closed his eyes.

"Things aren't like they were...and they won't ever be again. Those times at the bar were some of the easiest in my life. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that life." Desmond's eyes opened, and Christine saw resolve in them.

"But I can't move backwards, Chris, and I don't regret the life I have now, no matter how hard it's been sometimes. My life before might have been easier with less to worry about, but I've never been happier since Lucy and I were married...since Ky was born."

Christine was silent, and Desmond sighed.

"I know hearing that doesn't help you feel better, Chris...and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dragged you into this. But we still need your help, if you're willing to give it. And if you're not...I can make you forget all this. You can go back, if you want me to make it so."

Christine shook her head angrily.

"I'll help you Des. All this obviously means a lot to you, since that's the most I've heard you say that didn't contain at least four cuss words. But I don't ever want to hear you talk about using that...power of yours on me again."

Desmond nodded, his expression relieved. "Thanks, Chris."

Christine nodded, looking towards Lucy as she moaned softly. "Des?"

"Go to her Des...she needs you."

Desmond didn't look back as he went to Lucy's side, his hand taking hers, his voice whispering into her ear. She saw him mouth the words she'd wanted him to say to her since the moment she'd met him, and she managed to keep her brave front up long enough to get outside so she could cry.

**A/N: Yeah...I feel sorry for Christine, but she's not for Des. Also, for those of you wondering...yes, she is related to the other Cristina.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**11/10/2013**

**09:30**

**Queens, New York, USA**

Lucy woke slowly, feeling groggy. Probably the aftereffects of whatever drugs Trish had given her, she mused.

She lay on a pile of sleeping bags, a blanket tucked tightly around her. She blinked, looking around. Sunlight streamed in the dirty windows of the warehouse they had taken refuge in. Desmond slept beside her on another sleeping bag, Kyle nestled in the crook of his arm, fast asleep against his father's warm side.

She watched Desmond and Kyle sleep, feeling her chest tighten. It was rare that she was up before Desmond, since he usually took the early morning feedings to let her sleep in a bit longer. A ray of sunlight crept over the concrete floor to fall on them, and she started as she heard a quiet voice speak beside her.

"How do you feel?"

Christine knelt beside her, her blue eyes reddened from crying. The bags under her eyes spoke mutely to the fact she'd likely not slept the night before, and Lucy regained her composure enough to whisper, "Pretty good, in fact...I take it Trish got the bullet out?"

Christine nodded, speaking quietly. "She had to warn Des away with a scalpel." Lucy grinned despite herself. "That sounds like Des...he gets overly protective of me, sometimes. When Ky was born, he kicked the door down after the doctor made him leave."

Christine's eyes closed, and Lucy saw pain on her face. "I've known Des for 9 years...at least, I thought I knew him." She shook her head. "But that guy there...he's not the Des I knew. The Des I knew was a wild child...fairly immature, prone to taking risks...pretty damn angry most of the time – but a good guy."

Lucy waited as Christine swallowed, then said softly, "I didn't get to meet the Des you know until yesterday, when he told me that his first responsibility was to you and Ky. The Des I knew wouldn't have put anyone before himself...not even me."

Lucy was silent a moment, then said, "Thank you."

Christine nodded. "You're a good match for him, Luce. Better than I would have been, as hard as it is for me to say. He loves you and that baby more than...more than anything." Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat at that.

"I know. At some point, we'll have to tell you all of what happened...before." Christine nodded. "I look forward to hearing that story, but that's not why I came over here. I need to wake Des up. I got in contact with someone who can help us, but he wants to meet Des first."

She looked uncomfortable.

"I'm going to be the first one to say I trust this guy about as far as I could throw him, so Des is gonna have to be really careful about the impression he makes and what he asks for."

Lucy frowned.

"How do you know this guy, and who is he?"

Christine sighed. "His name is Louis Ithaca...yes, really. I never found out if it was his real name or an affection. I used to be his mistress. After I escaped my uncle's pimp, I got into the high-end escort services." Her gaze narrowed. "After a few years of being his favorite date, he took me on as a mistress, and eventually he helped me out by getting my uncle and my pimp put in jail."

Desmond's voice was quiet as he spoke from his sleeping bag.

"I remember that guy. He came into the bar a few times."

Christine's gaze went to Desmond. He lay comfortably, one arm pillowing his head, his golden eyes slitted in the sunlight. Her breath caught in her throat momentarily before Lucy spoke.

"Des, if what she says is true, maybe it's not the best idea to go to this guy. Are we headed for the airport?" Desmond shook his head. "No. There's cameras everywhere, and there's too many of us to sneak onto separate flights. I have a ride arranged once we get to the docks, but getting there is going to suck. I had Lucas check, and we're on every no-fly list in the country, and several European ones as well – they even put Ky on there, as the kidnapped son of a federal agent."

Lucy and Christine looked at each other. "What are we going to do, Des?"

Desmond sighed, stretching carefully to avoid waking Kyle.

"We'll eat something and I'll go over what I've got planned."

* * *

Desmond looked at the assembled team seriously. "As much as I hate to do it, we're going to have to split the team. Gavin will be waiting in Gravesend Bay from 10:00 PM to 10:45 PM." Juhani's narrowed.

"That's a pretty tight window, Des. If anything goes sideways with Mr. Obnoxious Affectation, some of us might not make it to the ship."

Desmond nodded, motioning John over with a map of the coastline.

"Gavin's only going to be able to dodge the Port Authority for so long, and since Hurricane Sandy, the bay's a lot shallower than it used to be from all the debris. The longer he circles there, the more risk he runs of tearing out the _Altair II_'s bottom...and I'm sure none of us want that."

John spoke up. "If Gavin's our ride sir, why do we need to risk working with the crime lord anyway?"

Desmond sighed. "We still need a way into Rome, and we don't have any Assassins in Florence at the moment. My contact at Abstergo informed me that Rikkin's been in Rome for the past week and showing no signs of moving. I think he's waiting for us."

Juhani looked at the map and frowned.

"If we're taking a ship, it'll take at least a week to get across the Atlantic, if not a week and a few days, depending on whether or not we run into any trouble."

Desmond nodded. "I know. It's a long time to travel, but there's no help for it if we can't fly." Lucy spoke up next. "Des...what about using your power?" Desmond frowned. "I can control quite a few people the closer they are to me, but too many people suddenly forgetting about seeing us will raise suspicions, and I'm sure Rikkin has warned his people about that kind of thing. I'll use if it I have to."

William looked at the map, then said, "How did you convince Gavin to come all the way out here? The last time I saw him on the East Coast, his father was at the helm."

Desmond grinned a little at Altair, who pretended to cough and directed his gaze at a suddenly fascinating spot of sunlight on the floor. "Altair convinced him we needed the help after I sent him the watch lists."

William nodded.

"You mentioned splitting the team, Desmond. Who is going with you, and who is waiting on Gavin?"

Desmond's gaze narrowed at his father.

"I'll need some volunteers, and I'll need your word Dad – you won't try what you did in Philadelphia again. We can't afford any more of that."

William was silent a long moment, then said, "You have my word, Desmond."

Desmond nodded. "I'll go to meet Ithaca with Chris, John and Michael." Juhani frowned. "If John or Michael don't mind, I'd like to go instead." Trish looked at Juhani, her gaze disapproving.

"You just got stitched up from the brawl in the bar, Juhani. This is likely to be very strenuous." The blonde Templar shook his head.

"I know what the risk is Trish, but I've got experience in dodging the Feds, and I'm sure we're going to wind up doing that at least once." He looked at Desmond. "Ansa will obviously stay here...she's pretty attached to Becca." Desmond nodded, looking at John and Michael. "John, Michael, which one of you wants to come with us?"

The two Assassins looked at one another. Surprisingly, Michael spoke up.

"I'll go, sir."

Desmond crooked a finger at John. "Then I want to talk to you and Lucy in private. Mike, get Juhani some equipment. Chris, what time did Ithaca want to meet?"

Christine looked at her watch. "He said around 11 AM, Des."

Desmond stood up. "Okay...let's get ready to go."

* * *

Lucy looked seriously at Desmond as he helped her into the back of the Assassins' van. "Be careful, Des." Desmond kissed her gently, his eyes glinting beneath the hood he wore. He wore dark tactical gear beneath a robe-like trench coat like the others, but unlike the black leather hoods Michael and Juhani wore, his was white, embroidered with the red Assassin compass.

Lucy smiled. "White suits you better, Des." Desmond snorted. "It's for appearances only, Luce. I want any Templars watching us to know who I am. The longer we keep them distracted on our trail, the easier time you guys will have getting to Gravesend."

Desmond kissed her again, lingeringly, his gaze melting to liquid honey. "I love you and Ky, Luce. No matter what happens, make sure you guys make it onto the ship."

Lucy nodded. "I will, Des. After this is over...we should go be boring for awhile, okay?"

Desmond laughed softly. "Sure thing, Luce."

The van door closed, and Desmond turned to Juhani and Michael. Juhani eyed him from beneath his hood, grinning slyly. "I have to say, these hoods don't make much of a fashion statement."

Desmond snorted.

"I dunno...I think the hood suits you, Juhani." The blonde Templar went silent, and Christine spoke up.

"Let's get going Des, Ithaca will be waiting at the diner."

**A/N: Lots of action coming up. Stay tuned. Edit: Oy, with the sleep deprivation. *shakes tiny fist* One of these days I'll actually get more than 5 hours at a whack. Today I can blame *flips excuse book* ... Daylight Savings Time. Yeeeeah. **


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**11/10/2013**

**17:00 (local time)**

**Rome, Italy **

"Evening, Alan."

Rikkin looked up from his steak as Laetitia England sat across from him, dressed in a fetching evening gown. "Evening, Laetitia. You look quite lovely."

England smiled, blushing a little. "Thank you, sir."

Rikkin glanced at his Blackberry as it buzzed. "Excuse me. I've been expecting a call." He picked up the phone. "Rikkin."

He listened for a moment, then said, "Do you know what means they intend to leave the country?" There was a silence, and England heard what she thought was a negative on the other end of the line. Her suspicion was confirmed as Rikkin scowled.

"Very well. When you spot them again, let me know immediately."

He hung up, cutting back into his steak, and Laetitia ventured a question.

"You're heading an operation yourself, Alan?"

Rikkin's scowl deepened. "Apparently the old adage about wanting something done right holds true when it comes to agents, Laetitia. It appears as though Juhani's completely defected to the Assassins...he was spotted not half an hour ago dressed as one of them, following 17 to some kind of meeting."

Laetitia's eyes widened. "Juhani? … Defected? That...that hasn't...ever...happened before."

Rikkin frowned. "Don't look so shocked, Laetitia. His resolve towards the Templars wavered the moment you involved his daughter, as I'd suspected it might." Laetita frowned.

"Forgive me for saying so, Alan, but most parents would protect their children if they'd been in Juhani's situation. I hadn't counted on him going this far though."

Rikkin sighed heavily. "Not you too, Laetitia. When Juhani joined our Order, the only note in his files other than his blatant attitude issues were that his daughter would be a liability. He accepted the risk she might be used as a bargaining chip."

Laetitia's voice was quiet as she said, "True...but I don't think he expected his own Order to be the ones using her as a bargaining chip. Initially my plan was to keep the girl here a few days, to remind him of his duty. When you escalated to the point of using interviewers and a holding cell, there wasn't anything I could do to mitigate the damage that had been done."

Rikkin's gaze narrowed. "Were he as obedient as his last handler insisted, he would have accepted his penance, Laetitia. Instead, he accepted the help of our enemies...and now it seems that its more than that. In all these weeks, he never attempted to escape from them...and our surveillance team spotting him dressed as one of them bears out he's been turned."

Laetitia sighed. "So what happens now?"

Rikkin started in on his steak again. "If our agents encounter Juhani in the field, he is to be treated the same as any other Assassin. He threw his lot in with them, let them protect him, if they can. Right now, my teams are trying to put eyes on 18, and so far there's been no luck."

He smiled grimly. "The Assassins did make the news, after two of them blew up a storefront near NYPD, in order that two of the women could slip in and rescue the two we'd had picked up." He shook his head. "We should have stationed our own people around the perimeter, but that idiot Captain wouldn't hear of it."

Laetitia frowned.

"So you've lost the Assassins, you don't know how they're going to get out of the country...but surely you know they must be trying to get here."

Rikkin nodded, a glint in his eyes. "I know. Most of my tactics are designed to delay them as long as I can, while the final touches on my latest project are completed."

One brow rose as Laetitia looked at him. "I haven't heard of any projects, Rikkin...is this some new pet project of yours?"

Rikkin nodded. "We've managed to replicate an Apple of Eden. Initial tests are promising." Laetitia's eyes widened. "Replicate an...how?"

Rikkin smiled, and the glint in his eyes made Laetitia shiver.

"That would be telling, my dear. Suffice it to say, all our research has paid off, and we have 17 to thank for unlocking the secret to doing it."

* * *

Louis Ithaca was a short Italian man with muddy brown eyes, and anyone looking at him would have thought him totally disinterested in the three men and one woman who approached his booth at the diner, but Desmond did not miss the way his gaze sized each of them up, stopping on Desmond. He was dressed in a garish silk suit, obviously quite expensive.

Christine broke the silence. "How'ya been, Lou?"

Ithaca's eyes flickered to her momentarily before settling back on Desmond's golden gaze, bright beneath his hood. "Good, Chrissy. Isn't the guy in the white hood your bartender? Halloween was a couple weeks ago, buddy."

Desmond's voice was quiet as he said, "The 1970's called, they want their suit back." Ithaca's eyes narrowed, and Desmond's gaze remained firm. Suddenly the man laughed. "Alright bartender...you've got balls insulting me – considering two of my guys are close enough to kill you where you stand."

Desmond smiled grimly. "No, they're not."

Ithaca's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Desmond nodded to Juhani and Michael, and each man stepped forward with his burden, seating the crime lord's unconscious bodyguards in the booth with him.

Desmond saw some nervousness in the other man's muddy gaze now, and he looked accusingly at Christine. "Chrissy, who the hell did you bring into my restaurant?" He looked at Desmond, his gaze narrow. "I thought you were Chrissy's bartender...hell, you made me a martini once." Desmond shrugged. "I've got some interesting hobbies."

Ithaca frowned, absently chewing his lip. "Have a seat. I don't remember your name, bartender."

Desmond reversed a chair, sitting in it. "Desmond."

The crime lord sat up straighter, looking into Desmond's eyes, and he was unnerved as he met the hooded Assassin's steady golden gaze. Despite himself, Ithaca shivered, and he tried to cover his fear with bravado he didn't feel.

"What do you want? Chrissy mentioned you needing help getting out of the country."

Desmond nodded. "We need to get into Rome. Unfortunately, there's all kinds of government types looking for us. So we need some of your people across the pond to get us into the city."

Ithaca frowned. "Calling the family over there is going to be tough as it is...the whole place locks down at the drop of a hat – thanks to some terrorist group that blew the hell out of the Abstergo building a year ago."

Michael muttered from behind Desmond. "Okay, maybe that wasn't the best idea ever...but it was still fun." Desmond grinned tightly. "Yes, it was."

Ithaca's eyes widened. "_You_ guys blew the place?"

Desmond nodded. "We needed a fairly spectacular distraction."

The gangster frowned, leaning close to Desmond and said, "Are you guys really terrorists?"

Desmond shrugged again, tilting his head. "That depends on your definition of terrorism."

Juhani snorted from behind him.

Desmond's tone became businesslike. "Can you help us or not?"

Ithaca's gaze narrowed. "I get the feeling this is more than some routine smuggling. And when I get the feeling a job is gonna be more than routine, the price goes up." Desmond's voice was calm as he said, "How much?"

The gangster's eyes flickered to the unconscious forms of his bodyguards. "Why don't we discuss that? You seem like a … reasonable guy."

Ezio's voice rang in Desmond's head. _"He is stalling. __Be wary, Desmond.__"_

Desmond's gaze flickered slightly, and his Eagle Vision wreathed the room in smoky grays. Through the walls, he sensed people converging on the diner.

Ithaca's short form was outlined in red, and Desmond growled internally. _"Let me guess...Abstergo paid him off." _Ezio's voice was a growl. _ "It seems so."_

Desmond saw the crime lord's gaze become somewhat frantic as Desmond rose to his feet. "I don't have time to wait for you to make up your mind." He nodded to the others. "Let's go."

Lou growled. "Not so fast, bartender."

Desmond sighed as Ithaca pointed a gun at him, grinning. "Can't let my payday leave, now can I?"

"Don't be an idiot."

There was commotion outside, and Ithaca smiled. Desmond growled, and his hand was a blur as he caught the other man's grip, twisting against the wrist, and the gun dropped from Ithaca's suddenly nerveless fingers. "I warned you asshole," Desmond snarled, and Christine cringed as Desmond drove his hidden blade into the gangster's throat, stepping deftly out of the way of the fountain of blood.

Desmond let the body drop as the front door was kicked in, and the federal agents swarming into the room ducked back outside as Juhani and Michael opened fire.

Desmond dragged Christine bodily out the back door as Juhani and Michael turned to follow them.

He kicked the door open, his hidden blade flashing in the sunlight as he killed two agents waiting at the back door, pulling a gun from his vest. Juhani beat him to it, and the agent dropped without a sound.

"We need transport, Des," he growled.

Desmond nodded. "On it."

Desmond ran to one of the unmarked SUV's. The driver stared at him as he bunched himself and rolled out of the way of a spatter of gunfire, opening the back driver's side door and dragging him out in one motion.

He whistled shrilly, and Juhani and Michael dragged Christine with them as they ran for the car.

Desmond gunned the engine. "Get down!" He snarled as gunfire popped around them. Luckily they were close to the Long Island Expressway, and Desmond expertly dodged traffic, entering the highway at far above the speed limit. There was little traffic due to it being a Sunday, and Desmond heard the wail of sirens behind them.

Juhani growled. "Looks like they're breaking out the aircraft, Des. We're screwed unless we can think of a way to get them off our tail."

Desmond nodded, and Juhani stared as Desmond stopped the car.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, and Desmond got out of the car, looking up at the circling helicopters.

He raised his hand, and they were forced to cover their eyes as golden light wreathed Desmond's form. There was vibration, an explosion without sound, and golden light spread in a circle from the tall form that stood within it.

When it faded, the helicopters were retreating, and Desmond knelt where he'd been standing. The ground around him was scorched as if from a great heat, and sweat poured down his face under his hood.

Christine and Juhani stared open-mouthed as Michael got out of the car, dragging Desmond towards it. Juhani had never seen the power of the Apple unleashed directly, and he sat back as Desmond was pushed into Michael's seat, the latter taking the driver's seat and starting the car again.

Juhani noted that Desmond's hands were shaking as he put his head into them.

Christine just stared at Desmond in shock, stammering, "What the hell _are_ you, Des?" Desmond didn't answer, and Juhani put a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" he asked gruffly. Desmond looked up, his gaze weary.

"Yeah. I'll be alright. I've never channeled that much by myself before...it took me by surprise, that's all." Desmond shook his head. "They won't be coming after us for a few hours at least. Let's get to the docks."

**A/N: Writing action sequences has always been a challenge for me. More coming up, including the showdown with Rikkin.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**11/10/2013**

**13:45**

**Gravesend, New York, USA**

Michael stopped the car near a small park. "Sir, I've called the others. They'll be here shortly."

Desmond nodded, his gaze distant. He got out of the SUV, moving a bit away and seating himself on a nearby bench, his head bowed, the white of his hood starkly visible against the gathering gray clouds that threatened snow. Desmond seemed uncaring of the cold wind that whipped his coat around his legs.

Christine moved to leave the SUV, and Juhani stopped her. "Let him alone. I've watched him long enough to know when he doesn't want company." They waited in silence, their eyes as one on the still form that didn't move from the bench. After a few minutes, the familiar van pulled up beside them.

Shaun was driving as usual, and William's voice spoke from the passenger seat.

"What happened? Why are you here so early?...Are those bullet holes?"

Michael nodded. "Yes, sir. The Feds shot at us."

William's face went red. "Federal agents? … as in, U.S. Federal agents...were shooting at you? Where's Desmond?"

Rebecca's voice spoke up. "That explains the news. There's reports of some kind of explosion on the Brooklyn Bridge..."

Lucy's voice broke in. "An explosion?...where's Des?"

Michael sighed.

"He's sitting over there, ma'am, and he didn't seem like he wanted to be bothered. He used his powers to persuade the Feds to take a hike..." He grinned a little. "It was pretty spectacular."

Christine's voice broke in. "Your idea of spectacular always seems to involve explosions, Mike...why is that?" Lucy read the raw fear behind the attempt at humor. Her eyes went to Desmond's still form, and she struggled to get off the stretcher.

She glanced at Trish and Rebecca. "You guys mind watching Kyle for a little while?" Ansa spoke up for them. "I'll watch Ky!" Rebecca smiled. "I don't mind babysitting, Luce...go see if you can get Des calmed down."

* * *

Desmond didn't move as she approached slowly, bent with pain and she could see the set of his jaw under his hood. "Des? What happened?"

Desmond sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I used my power..." He growled. "Altair and Ezio have been giving me their opinion of it for the entire ride over here."

Lucy frowned. "The strange explosion is all over the news, Des. When I mentioned using your power, I was thinking more along the lines of persuading them to leave..."

The golden eyes closed, and Desmond growled. "I persuaded them, alright. There were too many for me to be subtle, Luce."

Lucy seated herself carefully beside him, her expression quiet.

"You're angry."

Desmond was silent, his posture tensed.

"Des..." Lucy put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm...I'm worried about you. I'm sure...Altair and Ezio are, too. Every...every time you've used your power, it's been with less...restraint, lately. I mean, using it on Juhani aside...there's no way we can cover up that explosion...Rikkin will know where we are for sure."

Desmond put his head into his hands.

"I know."

William's voice cut into the conversation. "Lucy's right, Desmond. What you did on the bridge was reckless and put us all in danger..."

He took a step back as Desmond rose to his feet, his eyes ablaze.

"I know that! Goddammit Dad, don't you think that's what Altair and Ezio have been telling me for the past hour?!"

Lucy's voice was calming as she said, "Des...we're not accusing you of anything. What's done is done. It just means we need to lay low till Gavin gets here...by the time we reach Rome, the media frenzy will have moved onto whatever the latest celebrity has on her shopping list."

Desmond was silent, and Lucy stepped towards William, saying lowly, "Find us a place to wait for Gavin...I think Des and I should talk alone. We'll catch up with you." William nodded, looking a little dubious. "But..." Lucy sighed. "Go, William. You tend to make Des angry, and that's absolutely what we don't need right now."

William nodded. "All right...I'll call you when we're set up. Michael gave me the keys to the SUV."

He moved off towards the van, and Desmond and Lucy were alone in the park. She shivered a little, and Desmond removed his own coat, wrapping her in it.

Lucy took the opportunity as he wrapped the coat around her to kiss him, and he resisted for a moment before he relaxed a little, returning it.

"I'm sorry, Luce," he muttered softly, and Lucy stroked his face with a hand. "Des, I love you. I always will, but lately...you worry me. I know I asked you to use your power before we left, but you know as well as I do that was excessive."

Desmond nodded, closing his eyes and swallowing.

"I know." His eyes opened, and Lucy's breath caught in her throat at the vulnerability in it.

In a low voice she barely heard, he said, "It felt...natural...to use it like that. It felt...liberating...for a minute, I felt like I could do anything in the world...and I wanted to, Luce." Lucy's voice was soft as she wrapped him in a tight hug, ignoring the protests of her injuries.

Desmond's voice was soft as he said, "When I used the amplifier...back in the Temple. Since then...it's been easier to justify using the power. But on the bridge...I wasn't thinking of protecting our family or the Assassins...I was pissed off. I..." He shook his head. "I wanted to destroy them."

Lucy's gaze was very serious as she said, "Des...I'm going to ask you an unfair question...and I want the truth."

Desmond nodded.

"What stopped you from doing that?"

Desmond blinked at her, his eyes wide with shock. "Lucy..." Lucy remained firm as she said quietly, "Answer me, Des. What stopped you?"

Desmond was silent a long moment, then said, "Killing them like that would have made me no better than Juno. It wouldn't have solved anything."

His gaze glinted as he said quietly, "Nothing is true...everything is permitted."

He shook his head. "Altair told me the Creed is a guideline...but it's a dangerous guideline when you really do have the power to do...everything."

Lucy shook her head.

"You don't have the power to do everything, Des. If you did, you'd be a God...and while you might be godlike in some ways..." A wicked smirk was on Lucy's face, and Desmond blinked before a blush burned under his cheeks, his gaze narrowing. "You're still a man...a man I love more than I ever thought possible."

Desmond's arms wrapped around her, and he rested his head on hers for a moment, and against the sweet scent of her shampoo he muttered, "Godlike hmm?"

Lucy laughed against his chest. "Don't let it go to your head."

Desmond lifted his head away, grinning now. He purred, letting his tongue trail over the shell of her ear, and she shuddered. "You're a little late if you didn't want it... to go to my head."

Lucy smiled at him, her voice a little breathless as she said, "Trish will kill me if I tear any of these stitches, Des..."

Desmond grinned as he effortlessly lifted her into his arms. "I promise you won't tear any stitches."

* * *

The video was grainy and the sound choppy, but Laetitia was clearly able to see Vidic standing over the prone form of Subject 17, who was slumped against the wall.

"_It's like a wireless hard drive..."_

17's voice bore signs of some great strain, and she saw Vidic mouth something that was cut off. 17 laughed at whatever it was Vidic had said, and the scientists' eyes had gone wide in shock. Subject 17 had passed out, and Vidic had slapped him, clearly enraged – before the video cut out.

She sat back in the chair in Rikkin's ornate office in Rome, Rikkin looking at her expectantly. The first artifact Abstergo had ever found, a Papal Staff, glinted in the sunlight that came from the windows. She frowned. "I'm not sure what any of what I just saw has to do with replicating an Apple, Alan."

Rikkin sighed.

"17's crude analogy was the key to figuring out how to unlock the power of the Apples. They are storage devices, Laetitia...capable of holding the memories of their wielder, but the wielder pays a price." He unlocked a drawer in his desk and removed an Apple of Eden. Unlike the others she had seen, this one glowed with a cool silver light.

England found herself unable to take her eyes from it. "Where did you get an Apple of Eden?" she said, almost absently, her eyes glued to the strangely compelling glow.

"The Apple 17 drained of energy, Laetitia. Vidic had it in his office. Pieces of Eden are not so easily destroyed, even deactivated. I provided it a power source...a power that can only be provided by one with the correct...genetics." He smiled, and Laetita's eyes widened, though she remained unable to take her gaze from the silvery Apple he held.

"You...you have Precursor DNA?" she asked, and Rikkin nodded. "When we tested 18, I got the idea to test the blood of several other of our Order who had displayed...talents, including myself."

He admired the Apple in his hand, the silvery light bathing making his skin pale – almost corpse-like – and Laetitia shuddered.

"With this Apple tuned to me and the Papal Staff to amplify my talents...17 won't stand a chance against me."

**A/N: Okay...I wrote this on 7 hours of sleep in the last 48 hours...so if you find mistakes, PM me. Also...the guy who invented Daylight Savings Time can DIAF. **


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**11/10/2013**

**22:05**

**Gravesend, New York, USA**

The wind whipped over the assembled Assassins as the great, darkened shape of the _Altair II_ pulled up to the shoreline. Lucy shivered a little, despite her coat, Kyle nestled snugly against her chest in a harness, and Desmond wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. His hood was pulled low, his golden gaze glinting from beneath it as a boat splashed into the water, a light searching along the shoreline before settling on the group.

The boat came closer, and a tall form stood up in it, tossing them a rope, which John and Michael caught deftly, towing the boat to the shore. Gavin stepped from it, his features weathered from sun, his green eyes bright.

"You said you might be late, so I was surprised to see you here waiting, Desmond."

Desmond's jaw tightened. "I'll explain when we're aboard."

Gavin nodded. "Come on then, women and children first."

Lucy stepped onto the boat, steadying Kyle against her, followed by Rebecca, Trish, Christine, Ansa and Minerva who looked decidedly unnerved by the swaying of the boat.

"This is a crude thing..." she said, nervously. Rebecca steadied her with a hand. "It'll be okay, Min. It's not a long trip to the ship."

The boat moved towards the ship, and Desmond's eyes remained on Lucy the whole way there. As the boat came back empty of passengers,

The remaining Assassins and Juhani crowded onto the boat. Desmond was happy once his feet touched the metal decks of the _Altair II_. Gavin grunted as he began to pull the boat up, and Desmond stepped forward to help him, along with Michael and John.

Gavin looked at them as they pulled a tarp over the boat.

"Thanks. Not used to having so many aboard ship at once...so apologies, but you're gonna have to share bunks."

Desmond nodded. "Not a problem, Gavin. Thanks for coming all this way."

Gavin grunted. "I still want to meet him." Desmond nodded, and in an instant, Altair stood on the decks of his namesake.

Gavin's eyes widened.

"Mother of God, Desmond...you weren't kidding."

Desmond smiled. "Altair's been wanting to meet you too."

Gavin offered the ancient Assassin a grease-smeared hand, remembering at the last minute to wipe it clean on his worn coveralls.

"Ah...sorry. I rarely have passengers..."

Altair smiled. "No need to apologize. I have heard much of you, Gavin, and of my namesake. It is clear you care for her deeply."

Gavin blushed a little. "I was born to roam the seas. The only marriage that lasts in that situation is that of a man and his ship."

Altair nodded. "Indeed." Gavin motioned them below decks. "Weather's going to turn sour tonight, sir. You picked a good night to slip out...there's a fair snow storm coming in behind us. It chased me most of the way here."

They moved towards the bridge, and Gavin snorted.

"The Port Authority will take to shelter when the snow starts. They almost never follow through on any searches...unless they're looking for something in particular."

Desmond frowned.

"Don't be so sure they won't be out in force, Gavin. Thanks to some...interesting developments earlier today, they're probably gonna be out looking for me."

Gavin nodded, his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"I thought that might be the case. Heard it on the radio as I was coming in. Something about an explosion on the Brooklyn Bridge?"

Desmond sighed.

"Yeah. That was my fault."

Altair's expression set, and Gavin noticed. "I take it you don't approve?" Altair nodded. "You are correct, though Desmond and I have already spoken at length about his actions earlier. What matters now is that we evade our pursuers...even at the cost of time. For once, I believe that to be in our favor."

Desmond's gaze narrowed, and he growled, "Anyone ever tell you about a guy named Murphy, Altair?"

Gavin laughed, and Altair frowned, his golden gaze settling on the matching one, his expression stern.

"I do not know anyone named 'Murphy' Desmond." Desmond sighed. "Never mind. Let's just say I hope he doesn't get any ideas tonight."

Gavin snorted. "Now you've done it. Find something wooden to knock on fast..." Ezio's voice echoed from behind them, and Gavin's eyes widened.

"If Desmond needs something wooden, he can use his head."

Desmond sighed. "Are you guys about done?" Ezio and Altair looked at each other, and Ezio shrugged. Altair spoke quietly. "You frightened us earlier, Desmond. You know us both well enough to know we handle such things...poorly."

Gavin looked at Desmond as they entered the bridge and he started the engine with a practiced hand.

"Sounds like what happened on the bridge was more serious than I thought Des, if you freaked out your own ancestors doing it."

Desmond growled, looking out the windows towards the dark roll of the sea. He could see the snow Gavin had mentioned, rolling like a blanket over the ocean, stilling the waters and shrouding them in gray.

It was somehow peaceful, watching the motion of the water and weather, and Desmond's voice was calmer as he spoke.

"Yeah Gavin...what happened on the bridge was that for a moment...I lost control." His voice was low as he said, "It scared me."

Gavin's voice was gruff as he said, "Hell, Desmond, that kind of explosion would scare anyone...but there was more to it than that, wasn't there?"

Desmond's voice was a low growl as he said, "I wanted to destroy them, Gavin. For one moment...I almost did. Had I released that power, half the bridge and part of the coastline would have been leveled. I'd have killed hundreds of thousands in a matter of seconds." Gavin went silent, and Desmond closed his eyes for a minute.

"I just wanted them to leave us alone. Since the Temple...we've only had a few months of peace...a few months to be...normal. I don't want the same life I had for my son, Gavin...but if this war doesn't end...if they don't stop chasing us...it will never end."

Gavin's voice was quiet as he said, "Well, isn't that what you're doing now, Desmond? You're going to Rome to kill Rikkin...and you managed to get that Templar to help you – though I tend to agree with Harlan that might not have been the best idea – he seems helpful enough, and quite attached to that lady-doctor you picked up."

The grizzled Assassins eyes settled on Desmond, and he said, "I've been an Assassin all my life Des...I was there when the Mentor before Bill was killed. You're the first Mentor I know of in our history who's ever tried...and succeeded, in convincing a Templar to help you."

He looked at Altair and Ezio. "Of course, you guys would know more history than I do..."

Altair nodded. "My beloved wife Maria was a Templar. As I recall, she tried to kill me when first we met. But since that time...I do not know of any other Templars who had willingly joined us."

Ezio shook his head. "_Si, _there was a woman who aided the Assassins in my time...after Borgia betrayed her, much as happened to Juhani."

Desmond was silent, and Gavin said, "You've made a huge difference, Desmond...in the way we operate, and the ones we call allies. I'm old-school, like your Dad and Harlan...but as much as I hate to admit it...you might be right about needing to work with them to survive."

Desmond nodded, his eyes once more on the gray swell of the sea.

"Thanks, guys. It means a lot to hear that from you."

Gavin's eyes narrowed as searchlights cut through the fog.

"Looks like you were right, Desmond...we've got company. I need you to go and ready the guns. You know your way around a ship?" Desmond nodded. "Connor captained the _Aquila_, I'm sure I can figure it out." Gavin nodded. "Get on it then. They're coming up fast."

Desmond moved for the door. "Aye, aye, Captain."

**A/N: No, not much happens in this chapter except meeting Gavin. Action next chapter when they get to Rome. Opiu18, I looked up your reference and you were actually correct, so I've fixed Ezio's dialogue. Thanks for the catch!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**11/10/2013**

**23:00 (EST)**

**_Altair II_, North Atlantic Ocean**

Desmond ran down the narrow corridors of the _Altair II_, and as he barreled past the crew quarters, William's voice spoke up behind him.

"Desmond! What's happening?"

Desmond skidded to a halt, motioning Altair and Ezio to stop. "We have company, Dad. Gavin thinks it's probably the Port Authority...and if I was wrong about Murphy, then it's the Coast Guard."

William frowned. "If we have company, I'm assuming Gavin told you to get to the guns."

Desmond nodded. "The _Altair II_ is a lot bigger than the _Aquila..._and I think I'm lost_._" He grinned a little sheepishly. William actually cracked a smile. He remembered the expression well from Desmond's childhood. "Come on, son. I'll show you where they are."

William's steps were sure as he led Desmond to the armory, and Desmond whistled on seeing the weaponry. "Wow...that's a big-ass gun." William gave him a look, before he made his way to the gun placed on the bow of the ship. Desmond pulled on a headset, seating himself in the cockpit of the stern's gun. He heard Gavin's voice over the headset. "What took you so long?"

William's voice joined theirs over the com. "Never mind that Gavin, how many are there?"

Gavin's voice was surprised as he said, "Bill? The last time you took helm at a weapon, you were Desmond's age."

Desmond's voice came over the headset again.

"Geez, Dad, you shot one of these things?..I think I might be jealous."

William chuckled softly. "Well then son, you can learn a thing or two about shooting this caliber of weapon and how to disable boats without sinking them, because that's our goal."

Desmond's voice bore a trace of cautious humor. "But does it build character?"

William actually laughed. "Yes. Yes it does."

Gavin's voice cut into the conversation. "Enough chatter. Keep your eyes on those searchlights, I'm going to turn off the lights and see if we can slip past them."

Desmond went quiet, turning on his Eagle Vision. As always, it provided a latent aura of light, and he could see the approaching ships easily, outlined in sooty red.

He tracked the closest with his reticule, whispering into his headset.

"We've got a Coast Guard boat portside."

William's voice came back. "I see it, and two more starboard...they obviously know we're out here."

Gavin's voice was soft over the mic. "I'm picking up more incoming. As much as I hate to do it, we're going to have to persuade them we're not worth chasing. Desmond, you've got the least to deal with...take them out, carefully. We absolutely do not want to start any international incidents by accidentally sinking one."

Desmond frowned, taking careful aim. William's voice came over the mic. "Aim for the stern, Desmond. Try to knock out their rudder."

Desmond focused on the approaching boat, and at the instant the searchlight lit on the _Altair II's_ hull, he opened fire. Fire and smoke billowed from the stern of the ship, and Desmond saw it sputter to a stop.

"Good shot, son."

Desmond grunted. "I can see people on the boat moving around...they've got guns, so expect incoming fire."

Desmond heard his father curse over the line, gasping. "Dad?" There was no response, and Desmond bit off a curse. "Dad, answer me!"

The _Altair II_ swung around, and Desmond was forced to disable two more Coast Guard boats.

Gavin's voice came over the mic as the _Altair II _darted out of the net of Coast Guard boats. "We're through. I need to pour on the speed Des. Get below." Desmond got out of the cockpit, sprinting towards the bow.

His father's form was slumped against the cockpit of his own gun. "Shit! Dad!" Desmond's hands shook as he took his father's pulse, relief washing over his face as he felt the flutter that meant his father was still alive.

Gavin's voice sounded in the headset Desmond still wore.

"Get your ass below Des!" Gunfire spattered over the deck, and Desmond grunted as he lifted his father's body over his shoulder, running for the deck hatch.

"Gavin, I need Trish up here now. My Dad collapsed."

The others were there to meet Desmond as he descended the stairs, and John and Michael helped him carry William towards the makeshift medbay.

Trish's gaze narrowed as they laid William gently on the galley table.

"What happened Des?" Trish demanded. "He wasn't shot?" Desmond shook his head. "I heard him gasp over the radio, and when I got over there he was slumped over. I don't see any blood..."

Trish frowned, checking the elder Assassin over. She looked at Desmond. "Is your Dad taking any heart medication?"

Desmond stared at her. "Not that I know of..." He went silent a moment, then said, "I'd be the last person to ask...before last year, I hadn't talked to him in 9 years. My mom would probably know. What's wrong with his heart?"

Trish's expression went solemn. "I think he had a heart attack, Des, and we're nowhere near an ER. I have drugs I can give him, providing he's not already on them." Desmond's expression tightened.

Gently, he searched his father's pockets, removing his cell phone. Desmond looked at Rebecca, whose face was pale as she brought out her laptop. "I've got a satellite phone card, Des. We should be able to place a call over the internet."

Desmond nodded, looking at Trish. "What options do we have?" Trish sighed. "Clot busting drugs, depending on if that's the cause...surgery if we had any way to find the clot."

Minerva spoke from behind them, her voice quiet. "Am I to understand you wish to seek something within William Miles' body?"

Trish looked at her sharply. "A blood clot in his heart. We need imaging equipment to do it."

Minerva shook her head. "There is another way, if the cipher – Desmond – is willing."

Desmond looked at the Precursor woman.

"Explain. Rebecca, call my mom."

Rebecca nodded, stepping out of the room.

Minerva frowned. "Previously, have you ever desired one sense to be enhanced...and it was so?"

Desmond frowned. He remembered the two instances of having used that particular ability...once in Vidic's lab to overhear Lucy and Vidic, and once to hear through the glass of his cell at the Templar safe-house.

"Yes. Two times...I wanted to overhear something being said someplace I couldn't hear well, and when I focused on it, I was able to hear it. I didn't really think about it much at the time...both times I was worried about something else."

Minerva nodded. "Your enhanced vision may also be used in such a manner. You may be able to use it to save your father."

Desmond looked at his father. Trish took William's pulse. "Des...whatever you're going to do, make it fast. The longer you delay the more damage is being done to his heart."

Desmond turned to the assembled team.

"If I'm gonna do this, I need absolute concentration."

The others nodded, stepping back. Desmond stepped forward, extending a hand over his father's chest.

He turned on his Eagle Vision, and his father's body glowed blue beneath him. Focusing his thoughts on the prone form, his vision spiraled into the blue glowing form, and his head began to throb with pain.

Dimly, he heard the others gasp, and he dismissed it, focusing with everything he had on his father, and the headache grew worse. Desmond felt something wet drip from his nose, and he began to feel dizzy.

Grimly, he drew on his will to keep himself focused on his father, his vision tracing along blood vessels around the fluttering form of William's heart until he spotted one that was bulging, blocked almost entirely.

He spoke, his voice belying the strain he was under. "There. I see it." Minerva spoke from behind him. "Pass the image from your head to your hand."

Desmond raised his other hand, and it glowed brightly gold before an image coalesced before them, shimmering as the Apple's images had shimmered.

Trish whistled. "That's a neat trick Des. I've got him prepped."

Desmond ground his teeth together. His head hurt so badly he could barely see, and he realized now the liquid he'd felt was blood dripping freely from his nose.

"Hurry."

Trish wasted no time in performing the bypass surgery, and Desmond saw the blood begin to flow once more. The image wavered as Trish finished her work and began to sew up the incision. The image flickered again and went out, and Desmond fell backwards onto the floor, unconscious.

* * *

William came out of the anesthesia abruptly, wincing as he moved too fast against the new incision. He lay in a bunk on the ship, his chest wrapped tightly with bandages.

"What...what on Earth?" he gasped, and several pairs of hands moved to keep him still. "Calm down Bill." Gavin's voice was soft. "You're alright. The lady doc says you had a heart attack."

William blinked. "A heart attack? The last thing I remember is being on the guns with Desmond..." his gray eyes narrowed. "Where's Desmond?"

Juhani answered him from where he stood next to the doorway. "Desmond performed a really neat parlor trick that involved imitating an MRI machine so Trish could find the clot in your heart. After she got you sewed up, he passed out."

The blonde Templar frowned.

"Lucy hasn't left his side since...it's been three days. Trish kept you out till this morning to ensure you wouldn't tear anything."

William stared at the blonde man. "What are you talking about?" Trish's voice broke into the conversation. "What Juhani described is pretty accurate, William. Whatever Desmond did to display that image must have taken a lot out of him." She paused a moment, then said quietly, "Another few minutes and you'd probably have died. He saved your life."

Minerva's voice was quiet as she spoke.

"Desmond's power grows stronger. Only the most skilled among my people were able to perform such feats on another being...going within takes much more effort than affecting things without." A ghost of a smile graced her pale face as she said, "Truly, even I was surprised he was able to do it...and to hold on so long despite the suffering it caused him...he must care for you deeply, William Miles."

William was silent a long moment.

"Where is he?"

Trish looked at him seriously. "He and Lucy are in their bunk. They've been sharing with Juhani and I." William struggled to get up, and Trish glared at him. "You are not getting out of that bunk, William. Desmond sacrificed a lot to keep you alive. Don't do anything stupid."

A weak voice spoke from the doorway.

"Yeah Dad, cause neither of us should be moving around. How do you feel?"

They turned to face Desmond, who leaned casually on the door frame opposite Juhani. He looked pale, and deep circles were evident on his face, but his eyes were alert and concerned as they settled on the prone form of his father.

William's voice stuck in his throat as he said, "I'm...I'm fine, Desmond...you look a lot worse than I feel."

Desmond chuckled. "Lucy fell asleep with Ky, so I sneaked out to see if you were awake yet." Desmond frowned. "Why didn't you mention you had heart problems, Dad?"

William sighed.

"I didn't think much of it, Des. You know being Mentor is a stressful job as it is...I figured it was just overwork."

Desmond frowned. "I smell bullshit."

William growled. "Now you sound like your mother, Desmond. I honestly thought it was nothing."

Desmond's expression became skeptical, and he gazed at his father steadily. William sighed. "Alright...the doctors told me I had to watch it a few years ago and gave me some medication I didn't take. You know how I feel about doctors and medication, Desmond."

Trish cleared her throat. "Well, as your doctor, Mr. Miles...you're going to take your medication if I have to have Desmond and Juhani hold you down and force it down your throat."

William stared at her. "You wouldn't do that..." Juhani spoke up. "Yes, she would."

"And yes we would," Desmond added. His gaze narrowed. "You scared the hell out of me Dad. Stop doing that. I'm not explaining to Ky when he gets older that grandpa died of a self-induced heart attack."

William sighed, growling. "You know, you can be a real ass when you put your mind to it, son."

Desmond smirked. "I know, Dad."

**A/N: I lied. Rome next chapter. Cause I had to write in the naval scene. Just cause. Someday I'll write a fic that stars Pirates...or if I wait long enough, I can write a Black Flag fic and accomplish the same thing.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**11/20/2013**

**06:30 (local time)**

**Rome, Italy**

Several more days passed with little incident, and Desmond kept his word, appearing silently to ensure William took his heart medication each morning.

To soften the blow, he often brought Kyle. The baby was one of the few things to make William genuinely smile.

Gavin appeared one morning as Desmond arrived with the medication.

"We're approaching the coast of Italy, Desmond. There's a message for you from a Lucas Morrison...he says it's for your eyes only."

Desmond nodded. "Dad...you mind watching Kyle while I go above?" William nodded, swallowing the pills obediently, his arms cradling his grandson, who alternately waved a toy and chewed on it.

Kyle was teething, and Desmond had prudently brought the toy to prevent his son from chewing on the IV's that supplied liquids and painkillers to his grandfather.

Gavin watched as Desmond left the room, and then his gaze settled on William sitting up in the bunk, the baby in his arms.

"That little guy is the spitting image of Des at that age, Bill."

William looked down at Kyle, who was back to chewing on his toy. "I know. He reminds me of Desmond so much sometimes, it hurts."

Gavin's voice was quiet as he said, "You did wrong by Des when he was little, Bill, training or not. Don't make the same mistake with your grandkid. I'm headed above. We should be there in a couple more hours."

William was silent, looking down into Kyle's wide golden gaze, currently focused on his teething ring. Kyle took the ring out of his mouth long enough to smile at his grandfather, and William smiled back at the baby, saying softly, "Is that thing tasty? Hmm? Maybe I should try a bite..."

William pretended to take a bite of the ring, and Kyle laughed, his eyes bright.

"You're lucky I got back here before Rebecca and her video camera, Dad, or you'd be the latest viral sensation on YouTube."

William looked up at Desmond, who was smirking from the doorway.

A blush burned under his skin. "Desmond...I didn't see you there."

Desmond chuckled.

"I'm an Assassin Dad...you know, hide in plain sight, and all that."

William nodded, and his voice was soft as he said, "Desmond...you saved my life...that's twice now I owe you...and both times you sacrificed yourself for me." He focused his gaze on his son, and before he could stop himself he asked, "Why?"

He could tell Desmond was surprised by the question, and the grin faded from Desmond's face as his gaze darkened. William swallowed as Desmond straightened, saying quietly, "I used to ask myself that question. Before Abstergo kidnapped me, I asked myself that every day, Dad."

Desmond sighed softly. "Then I woke up in the Animus. I played through Altair's life...I was with Ezio when he was born. And they taught me a lesson, Dad. They taught me that nothing comes above family. Nothing. In the end, when everything's done...all you have is the ones you love."

The young Assassin's eyes narrowed.

"I learned another lesson in December, Dad...when the world almost ended...when I used the amplifier to save it...for one moment, I _was_ everyone on Earth. When I told them to protect their home, the thought that was translated in every brain around the world was, 'Protect our family.'"

Desmond closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath.

"I can't even describe how it felt, Dad. It's made it hard for me to kill people...and it made what happened on the bridge one of the most frightening things in my entire life – because for one second...when I used the Apple, I stopped caring about everything."

His gaze opened, his gaze like topaz.

"That won't happen again, Dad. I put everyone in danger that day. That's actually one reason I came back down here to talk to you."

William sat up, Kyle now asleep in his arms.

"What do you mean, son?"

Desmond frowned.

"Lucas sent me a message. Rikkin knows we're coming and has half the Roman police force waiting for us. I've told Gavin to stop the ship here. We're about an hour out."

William's gaze narrowed. "What are you going to do, Desmond?"

Desmond's voice was soft as he replied, "I'm going alone."

William blinked, and Desmond held up a hand.

"I know what you're going to say, Dad, and if you and the others come with me, Rikkin will kill you and get his hands on Ky."

William swallowed, unconsciously cradling the baby closer to him.

"What does Lucy think about this?"

Desmond closed his eyes. "She doesn't like it, obviously. If I turn myself into Rikkin, the rest of you will have time to escape. If I come out of it in one piece, I'll contact you. If not..."

His eyes opened, narrowed into slits.

"Then I'll make sure Rikkin goes with me."

William's voice was soft and choked as he said, "We can find another way, son. Don't do this. Think of Kyle..."

Desmond's voice bore some of the same strain that William's had as he replied, "I am. I love him and Luce more than my own life...and if that's what it takes to ensure the war with the Templars is ended, then that's what has to happen. I promise I'll do my best to ensure it doesn't. If I'm wrong...I need you to take of Luce and Ky for me, Dad."

William could do nothing but nod helplessly, and Desmond's expression tightened.

"There's one thing I need to do before I go. Can you make it to the galley?"

William nodded. Desmond took Kyle and helped William stand.

* * *

They stood in a loose circle in the cramped galley. Lucy's eyes were red with tears as she stood holding Kyle. Desmond stood in the front of the room, wearing the heavy, formal robes of the Mentor of the Assassins. Ezio and Altair flanked him in their own robes, their expressions unreadable.

Juhani stood before him, dressed once more in the gear he'd worn during the mission to confront Ithaca.

Ansa stood to one side, wrapped in Trish's arms, Rebecca standing nearby.

"Juhani...you swore an oath to the Templars, our sworn enemies...and yet you've helped us...helped me. I think you'd make an excellent Assassin. What do you say?"

The big man's blue eyes went wide, then narrowed.

"You...you'd really make me that offer...after what I did to you and your son? After...after what I did in Florence?"

Desmond nodded. "We've all had to do things we regret, Juhani. I don't hold a grudge against you. We need your help, Juhani."

The blonde man looked thoughtful, and Desmond did not miss the way his eyes flickered to Trish and his daughter before he answered.

"I accept."

Desmond nodded. "You're now an Assassin Juhani, and the gear you're wearing is yours, including the hidden blade."

Juhani nodded, and then he cracked a slight grin.

"Just don't expect me to call you sir."

* * *

Lucy and Desmond stood alone near the edge of the deck. Desmond was still wrapped in the Mentor's robes, though underneath it he was heavily armed.

"Des, I don't understand why you have to do this...we can help you," Lucy's voice was a plea, and Desmond shook his head resolutely.

"Luce, you and my Dad are in no condition to fight. Juhani isn't fully recovered either, no matter what he'll tell you. I need you and the others to protect Kyle. Rikkin's after him, not me."

Lucy's eyes filled with tears.

"Des...I'm afraid I'll lose you. I don't think I could stand that. I-I'm not strong enough..."

Desmond tilted her head up to his.

"I love you Luce. Ky will need you to be strong...if this doesn't work out. I won't put you all at risk from either Rikkin or..." Desmond paused a moment, then said, "or me."

Lucy was silent, tears streaming down her face.

"This is just another mission, Luce. I'll be away a few days, but I'll be in contact when it's over. I promised you when this was over we could be boring awhile."

Lucy smiled through her tears.

"Someplace tropical, Des."

Desmond smiled. "You got it."

The sun seared into Lucy's eyes, but she kept her gaze on the solitary form that guided the speedboat, his white robes streaming behind him. Desmond's hood was low over his face, shading his gaze from the sun, and Kyle fussed in her arms.

William came up beside her, putting one arm around her shoulders.

"Desmond has perhaps the most training of any of us, Lucy and the power of the Apple besides...he'll be alright."

Lucy nodded, but her heart lay heavy in her breast as the boat grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing into the bright disc of the rising sun. She cradled Kyle closer, and tears ran down her face as she allowed William to lead her back into the bowels of the ship.

**A/N: The final showdown is up next. **


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**11/20/2013**

**08:45 (local time)**

**Rome, Italy**

Rikkin rose to his feet as the doors to his office opened. His gaze narrowed as a tall figure robed in white was led in, his hands bound behind his back.

The man's eyes glowed golden beneath his hood, and Rikkin smirked, looking him over.

"Those robes went out of style some 300 years ago, Mr. Miles."

He dismissed the guards, striding over and pulling back the hood sharply. Desmond did not so much as blink as he eyed the Grand Master Templar.

Rikkin pretended to look around. "Where are your friends, Mr. Miles? Your ancestors? I was looking forward to making your wife's acquaintance. I never actually met her before she betrayed us."

Desmond was silent, his gaze following Rikkin as he paced in front of his imposing desk.

Rikkin snarled. "It doesn't matter. We'll find her and the rest of your merry band of misfits. You signed your own death certificate coming here. Still..."

The Templar smirked.

"In a way, I'm glad you came alone. You see Mr. Miles, thanks to you, I was able to replicate an Apple of Eden." He saw the golden eyes widen with shock, and Rikkin laughed as he moved behind his desk.

"Surprised? It just goes to show have naive you are. How naive you and your kind have always been, Assassin."

Rikkin reached behind his desk, opening a drawer. Desmond took an inadvertent step back as he held forth an Apple that glowed with an eerie silvery light.

"Can you feel it, Mr. Miles? The power of it?" Rikkin taunted, and Desmond did indeed feel the energy from the silver Apple.

It resonated in the room, and Desmond could feel his skin tingle as if lit from within by an electric charge. Beneath his skin, the white geometric patterns he'd seen after absorbing Altair's Apple in Syria appeared, flickering erratically.

Rikkin's gaze narrowed at seeing the patterns light beneath his skin.

"Well, that's certainly a neat trick, Mr. Miles."

Desmond growled.

"If you think that's cool, you should see what else I can do, Rikkin."

Rikkin grinned at him, and the silver Apple in his hand glowed. Desmond was forced another step back as he approached the Assassin with it. The energy that radiated from the other Apple made Desmond's skin crawl with some primal revulsion.

"What's the matter, Mr. Miles? You aren't afraid, are you?"

Desmond straightened, raising one hand and clenching it into a fist. "No, but you should be."

A golden glow wreathed his hand, and the patterns beneath his skin stabilized as Desmond drew on his power. A bolt of energy shot forth from Desmond's palm, and Rikkin was forced to jump back as it scorched the floor beneath him.

"I learned that trick in Brooklyn, Rikkin. You might have seen it on the news."

Rikkin growled as Desmond forced him back, bolt by bolt. As his back touched the wall, he turned, smashing the glass case behind his desk, his hand closing around the Papal Staff.

"I may not have absorbed an Apple, but I can still amplify this one!"

Rikkin's hand placed the silvery Apple in the Staff, and Desmond gasped as the distortion he felt in the room grew more prevalent.

His hands rose instinctively to protect his head as Rikkin approached him with the Staff, leveling the tip at the Assassin.

"What's the matter, Mr. Miles?" Rikkin taunted. "Can't handle a fair fight?"

Instinct ruled Desmond's movements as his muscles clenched, rolling him away from the volley of silver bolts that erupted from the Staff his enemy pointed at him.

He rolled, forced into constant movement, and as he paused for a moment, Altair and Ezio appeared beside him, moving as one to flank the Templar.

Rikkin frowned.

"Now, now Mr. Miles...three against one is hardly fair. Let's even the odds, shall we?"

Two silvery Templars appeared beside Rikkin, their eyes blank. Rikkin snarled, pointing at the two ancient Assassins.

"Kill them."

The silvery Templars split instantly, one going after Ezio and the other after Altair.

Desmond's attention was drawn away from their fight as Rikkin pointed the Staff at him, and this time Desmond barely dodged the bolt sent in his direction.

"I can do this all day, Mr. Miles, and even you will eventually get tired."

He gasped as Desmond's throwing knife whistled past his head. Rikkin snarled. "You're entirely too fond of those knives, Mr. Miles."

He leveled the Staff at Desmond, and his eyes glowed silver as he commanded, _"Drop your weapons."_

The compulsion to obey pressed against Desmond's mind like a crushing weight. It was easily ten times more difficult than resisting Juno had been, but he was stronger now, and his thoughts went to his son as he wrenched his mind free with a groan of agony.

"I will _never_ obey you!" Desmond snarled, and he raised a hand, golden energy wreathing it once more.

Rikkin raised the staff at the same time, and a bolt of silver energy met gold with an impact that sent both men flying into walls.

Desmond lay stunned a moment, and he watched almost in slow motion as Altair and Ezio cornered the two silvery Templars. They worked together, as a team, while the phantasmal Templars only seemed to be able to focus on one of them at a time.

Desmond's gaze narrowed.

That was it. Rikkin could only focus on one thing at a time. He raised his hand, firing a golden bolt at the ceiling even as he rolled out of the way of another volley of bolts.

The bolts stopped and he heard Rikkin curse as he was forced to dodge falling debris.

Desmond took advantage of the his opponent's distraction to get close, crowding the Templar. Rikkin tried to strike him with the Staff. Desmond ducked the swing and drove his hidden blade into the Templar's throat.

Rikkin stumbled back, choking on his own blood, and he swung at Desmond once more, his eyes totally mad.

"If I'm going to die..." he gurgled. "I'm taking you with me!"

Desmond's hand closed on the shaft of the Staff, and the vibration of some great impact froze them both in place.

Desmond's breath was chased from his throat as he felt a great force constrict his body. He saw Altair, Ezio and the silvery Templars vanish, and Rikkin's eyes went wide. "What...what are you...?"

Desmond's hidden blade retracted, and his hand, lined with the flickering white patterns, touched Rikkin's head.

The world fell away beneath them as Desmond's eyes glowed golden, and Rikkin's expression became horrified as he felt Desmond's touch on his mind, and the Assassins voice, now choral in the manner of the Precursors, spoke directly into his mind.

"_You never understood. The Pieces of Eden are not meant for humans. They are meant for our kind, __the hybrids. We were to use them to repair the world. You betrayed your own kind for power, __just as the first Templar did."_

Rikkin's expression twisted in horror as he saw a wavering vision of a man, his blue eyes enraged, a stone knife in his hand. _"Give me the Apple, Abel!_"

His brother shook his head, the Apple glowing softly golden in his hand.

"_Cain...it is not meant for us..."_

Cain's eyes were mad now, and he raised the knife. _ "Give it to me!"_

Rikkin's mouth formed the word even as Abel said it,_ "No!"_

The stone knife came down, and Cain's hand held the Apple, blood dulling the golden surface of it.

"_At last..."_

Rikkin shuddered, and the vision faded. He was looking into the golden gaze once more, his life fading with each pump of his heart.

"The...the Father of Understanding..." He coughed. "Y-You...lie..."

The silver light in Rikkin's flared, and Desmond felt him channel the last of his energy through the Staff. A bright light blinded Desmond, and the pressure surrounding him increased until he felt as if he would be crushed.

The world around them wavered now, as if being seen underwater, and Desmond felt himself slipping as the light faded from Rikkin's eyes, his body going limp.

Desmond felt his own power being drained from him, and he realized it was the presence of the silver Apple. His power swelled within him as he struggled to control it, fighting the pull of the silver Apple.

He focused his power on the silver Apple, seeking to destroy it, and the world stilled as the silver Apple flared once, and then Desmond felt his power being returned to him...too fast. It was too fast, and he couldn't control it as is swelled within him unbearably. Desmond poured all of his being into maintaining control over the power that now flowed into him, but he felt his grip on it slipping, and as the last of his grip faded, it loosed itself with seeming glee.

_Lucy...Ky...I'm sorry..._

* * *

Lucy ran up on deck with the others as the sky above them turned gold. There was the muffled boom of some massive explosion, and sudden waves pushed the _Altair II_ about like a child's bath toy.

"Hold onto something!" Gavin's voice barked, and Lucy felt Juhani and John grab her, holding her tight as the great ship pitched about. They hung on for their lives for a few minutes, and eventually the light faded, the rumblings from the explosion spreading further from them.

Lucy's eyes went towards the coastline.

"Desmond..." she whispered in horror.

The others stared at each other, and then silently at the coastline before William said, "Gavin, turn us around." Lucy's expression twisted in rage that faded to shock as William said, "We're going back for Desmond."

* * *

The first thing he became aware of was cold. A cold wind whipped over his face, making the robes he wore rustle around him. The next thing he became aware of was pain in his hand. His right hand tingled and burned, and the pain traveled up his arm.

Desmond's eyes blinked open to the incredible blue of the winter sky, and the sunlight was bright as it fell on him. He lay on his back in the middle of what had been Rikkin's office. The walls and roof that had covered the area were just...gone, as if some great hand had descended from Heaven to scoop them up.

He sat up slowly, and the pain in his right hand shocked him as he put weight on it without thinking. He hissed, cradling it in his left hand. The skin was blackened and burned, his palm covered in blisters that exactly outlined the shaft of the Staff he'd been holding.

He looked around, but like the top half of the room he was in, the Staff and silver Apple were gone. Rikkin's body lay where it had fallen, blood soaking the carpet around it.

The white lines that had traced his skin had faded, and cautiously, he called, _"__Altair? Ezio?"_

Relief that rushed through him as they responded.

"_We are here, Desmond."_

Desmond got to his feet slowly, still cradling his burned hand. He looked around at the strange sight once more he touched his headset. Of course, it was dead.

Far below, he heard the wail of sirens.

He kicked open the door to the stairway, making his way down them unsteadily. Behind him, the air wavered like water once before it faded.

**A/N: Aaaand...we're done. I don't have a title for the third story yet, but I have the entire plot for it written out. I haven't put everything in sequence yet but I'll get there, and I may or may not be able to start it this weekend. First...I gotta think of a title. If anyone has any ideas, lemme know. As always, review and let me know what you thought. I won't be covering anything in Black Flag since it's not out yet, and because as I've said before...unless I'm missing something the Kenways story doesn't really tie into Desmond's much past AC3.**

**A note on the side stories: If they're marked with "MotW" they fall within my AU's canon which means in my version of the world, they happened. They might not always get referenced in the main stories themselves, they're meant to stand alone and provide insight into individual characters and situations.**


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